Chapter 19 · Key-Blood

Cass's hand was still burning when Mara shoved him into the storage closet behind the exam hall.

The blackboard's words were branded into his skull: *Key heir, open the altar.* His ring had lit up the second the chalk finished writing, hot enough to sear through his glove. Now the metal sat against his skin like a live coal, pulsing in time with his heartbeat.

"Let me see it." Mara didn't ask. She grabbed his wrist and yanked his hand into the thin line of light bleeding through the door crack.

The Veyr family crest—two serpents eating each other's tails—glowed faint red under the tarnished silver. The skin around it looked wrong. Darker. Like the ring was sinking into him one layer at a time.

"It's keyed to the altar," Mara said. Her voice was flat, but her grip tightened. "That's why the loop keeps you. You're the lock."

"I didn't know." Cass tried to pull his hand back. She didn't let go. "I swear I didn't know."

"Your father did."

That landed like a kick. Because yeah. Of course he did. The old man never gave gifts. Only tools.