Chapter 31 · The Forbidden Bed

"Don't you dare touch them!"

Silas spat the words, his voice cracking. He couldn't move. His boots felt glued to the floor as he stared at the two ghosts in the doorway.

His mother. Her eyes were milky, vacant. And beside her, Merrick—Viviane’s brother—looking exactly as he had the day he bled out in the dirt five years ago.

Viviane’s breath hitched. A jagged, broken sound. She didn't reach for her sword; she just stood there, her hand trembling so hard her gauntlet rattled.

"Merrick?"

"Oh, look at them," Kaelen’s voice drifted from the shadows, dripping with sick amusement. "The great Inquisitor and the heretic mage, reduced to shivering children. Julian is thrilled. Necromancy is such a messy art, isn't it? But the emotional leverage? Simply divine."

Heat crawled up Silas's throat. "You bastard! You son of a bitch!"

He lunged. He didn't get far.

His mother’s hand shot out—faster than any human could move—and slammed into his chest. The force threw him backward, his spine hitting the wall with a bone-jarring thud.

"Stay down, Silas," Viviane whispered. She wasn't looking at him. She was staring at Merrick. "Merrick, if you can hear me... please.