Chapter 25 · Blood Pact

"Take your hand off me, Julian." Kael caught the noble's wrist before the cold fingers could close around his throat. "Or I swear I'll break it."

Julian smiled without warmth. "You keep making promises you can't afford."

His other hand held the surgical knife against Kael's ribs. Not deep. Just enough pressure to make the point. One wrong move, and Kael would be bleeding across the operating table instead of Julian.

Kael tightened his grip. Julian's pulse beat slow beneath his fingers. Too slow for a living man. Too steady for someone with half his bones turning white under the skin.

"Silas is coming," Kael said. "If you kill me, you die with him."

"Then stop wasting time and cut."

"You want me to open your chest while an Inquisitor is marching down here with a room full of zealots?"

"I want the plague out." Julian leaned closer. His breath brushed Kael's cheek, cool and thin. "You told me the infected tissue is pressing against my heart."

"I told you I need another hour to prepare."

"You have ten minutes."

"That's not preparation. That's suicide with better tools."

Julian's grip shifted.