Chapter 8 · Forbidden Prescription

"Put the blade down, Cillian."

Kane's hand closed around my wrist before the silver edge reached his chest. His grip was hot enough to sting through my glove, and the black veins under his skin jumped like live wires.

"Let go."

"You were about to cut me open."

"I was about to stop the curse from reaching your heart. Big difference."

"You say that like I should find it comforting."

His thumb pressed against my pulse. The Blood Pact answered at once. A sharp burst of pain snapped through my arm, then slid up into my shoulder and settled behind my ribs.

Kane felt it too. His jaw tightened.

"You felt that," I said.

"I felt you trying to stab me."

"No. You felt the pact warning you. Move your hand."

He didn't.

We stood inches apart in the surgical room, my back against the steel table and Kane blocking the only clear path to the door. He had one hand around my wrist. The other held the edge of his shirt near his collar, keeping the dark curse marks exposed without giving me enough room to work.

He looked pale.