Chapter 20 · The Marrow Deal

"Still pretending to be a corpse, or are you just waiting for me to get bored?"

Sela’s voice sliced through the dim light of the holding cell. She didn't stand at the bars. She was already inside, her leather boots clicking against the stone floor, stopping inches from where Cain lay curled in the dirt.

Cain didn't move. He kept his breathing shallow, his face pressed against the cold grit. But inside, the Devouring Bone was humming—a low, predatory vibration that made his teeth ache. He could smell her: expensive jasmine and the sharp, metallic tang of the mana-suppressors she wore on her wrists.

Sela reached down, her gloved hand gripping the back of his neck and hauling him up with a jerk. He didn't fight it. He let his body go limp, forcing her to put more effort into the lift.

"Look at me," she commanded.

Cain shifted his gaze. His eyes were bloodshot, the pupils narrowed into slits. He let a small, jagged smile touch his lips. "You're wasting your time, General. I'm just a piece of trash with a broken spine. Nothing left to steal."

"Trash doesn't survive a marrow-stripping," Sela countered.