"Don't move. Not a single inch."
The obsidian edge is already kissing my throat. Cold. Jagged. Just deep enough to bead blood.
Kael's got me pinned to the archive wall. Chest to my back. One big hand locking both my wrists over my head. I can't get a full breath.
"Drop it," Kael snarls. His voice rumbles right through my spine. "Drop it or I rip your arm off before you blink."
"The Regent wants her scrubbed, not slit," the assassin spits. He presses harder. Copper floods my mouth. "But I'll take the head for a bonus."
Kael goes rigid behind me. All muscle. All Alpha. Ready to kill the wrong way.
I'm not.
"You're shaking," I whisper. I tilt my head back and look the guy dead in the eye.
"Shut up, brat!"
"C-grade," I say. I let my lips curl. Just a little. "Your grip's wrong. Weight's too far back. You're not hunting. You're praying I don't scream."
"Sloane, stop talking," Kael mutters against my ear. Hot breath. Ozone and steel. "You're gonna get us both killed."
"I'm doing the heavy lifting," I breathe. "Just hold me still."
I don't need magic to read this guy. I just need his tells.
Left eyelid twitching. Sweat on his upper lip. Blade trembling like he's holding a live wire. He's not a killer. He's a debt.
"You didn't get this contract 'cause you're good," I say. Low. Soft. Like I'm telling him a secret. "You got it 'cause you're desperate. How much you owe? Family? Dice? Who'd Valerius promise to pay off if you pulled this off?"
"I don't — I don't know what you're talking about!"
"Liar." I don't blink. "Your pupils are blown. Your pulse is hammering in your neck. You're not thinking about the cut. You're thinking about the door behind you."
His blade wavers. A fraction. That's all I need.
"You're thinking Valerius already sent your replacement," I whisper. "'Cause you're too slow."
"Shut up! Shut up!"
He swings. Wild. Sloppy. Not at my throat anymore — at my face.
Kael moves.
It's not fast. It's violent.
He catches the guy's wrist mid-swing. Bone pops like dry wood. The obsidian blade clatters to the stone.
"Ahh!" the assassin howls.
Kael slams him face-first into the wall. Cartilage crunches. Wet. Ugly. He wrenches the arm up behind his back until the guy's on his toes, whimpering.
"Who sent you?" Kael growls, mouth inches from his ear. "Say it. Or I start taking fingers."
"Valerius!" Blood sprays from his nose. "He said — he said she was already dead! That it was cleanup!"
I push off the wall. Smooth my dress with hands that aren't shaking. My heart's not scared. It's buzzing.
"He's useless now," I say. "But he just confirmed it. Valerius isn't trying to kill me. He wants me erased. Brain-scrubbed. Empty."
Kael doesn't let go of the guy. He looks at me. Really looks.
Not like I'm the useless princess anymore.
Like I'm a problem he can't solve.
"How'd you do that?" he says.
"Do what?"
"That." His eyes are dark. Locked on me. "He was trained. You turned him into a shaking mess in thirty seconds without touching him."
I step into his space. Close enough to feel the heat coming off his chest plate. Close enough to smell sweat and steel.
I brush two fingertips against the cold metal over his heart. Light. Barely there.
He doesn't move. Doesn't breathe.
"It's called profiling," I murmur. "I see the cracks. The stuff people try to hide. Then I push."
His gaze drops. Just for a half-second. To my mouth. Then snaps back up.
"You're dangerous," he says. Voice low.
"And you're bored," I shoot back. "You spent your whole life taking orders from men like Valerius. Men who keep you on a leash and call it honor. Doesn't that get old?"
His jaw ticks. Muscle jumps.
"I serve the throne," he says.
"The throne's a chair in an empty room," I say. "And the guy sitting in it just ordered my brain wiped. You call that service?"
He steps in. Erases the last inch between us.
I have to tip my chin up to hold his eyes. The air goes thick. Heavy. His body heat hits me in a wave.
"You think you can play me too?" he whispers. It vibrates in my chest more than my ears.
"I think you've never met someone who wasn't scared of you," I whisper back. "And I think you're wondering if I'm the only way you get out of this city alive."
His hand comes up. For a second I think he'll grab my throat.
He doesn't.
His calloused fingers brush my jaw. Thumb hovering just under my ear. Warm. Rough. My pulse kicks so hard I'm sure he feels it.
"You're a glitch, Sloane," he breathes. "A mistake in the system."
"Then let's see how much damage a mistake can do," I say.
I pull back. The cold rushes in where his heat was.
Kael kicks the unconscious assassin aside like trash. Doesn't even look down.
"We got ten minutes before patrol sweeps this sector," he says. His voice is all guard again. Flat. Clipped. "Move."
"Wait."
He stops. Back to me. Shoulders tight.
"You're still thinking about it, aren't you?" I say. "How I broke him."
He doesn't turn. But he doesn't walk either.
"I can show you," I whisper. "Not just how I broke him. What I can really do. If you're brave enough to let me in."
He turns then. Slow. Eyes burning.
"What do you mean, 'let you in'?" he says.
I smile. Slow. Dangerous.
"Want to see my gift?" I say, and his hand locks around my wrist — and the iron archive doors behind us shudder as the outer lock clicks open