Chapter 10 · Blood Run

"Get your hands off me before I rip them off," Kane spat, his voice a jagged rasp.

Cillian didn't budge. He had Kane pinned against the cold marble of the hallway wall, his fingers digging into the billionaire's shoulder. The air between them was thick, smelling of ozone and the metallic tang of blood.

"You're not listening," Cillian snapped, his face inches from Kane's. "The sync is spiking. If you keep fighting the resonance, your heart is going to explode. Not metaphorically. Literally. Boom. Blood on the wallpaper."

Kane let out a harsh, wet laugh, but it turned into a choke. He slumped, his forehead dropping onto Cillian's shoulder. The heat radiating off him was unnatural, like a furnace stoked with cursed coal.

"Do it then," Kane whispered, his breath hot against Cillian's neck. "Let it blow. Better than letting Lilith play puppet master with my veins."

Cillian felt a sharp, sudden spike of agony shoot through his own chest. He gasped, his knees buckling. He didn't just see Kane's pain; he felt it. A crushing weight, like an invisible hand squeezing his lungs. That was the Blood Pact.