"Move. Now," Sela snapped, her hand clamping onto Cain's shoulder like a vice.
She didn't wait for him to agree. She yanked him backward just as a bolt of concentrated marrow-light tore through the space where his chest had been a second ago. The stone wall behind them exploded into dust.
"What the hell was that?" Cain gasped, his lungs burning.
"A cleanup crew," Sela said, her voice cold and devoid of panic. She pushed him harder into the shadows of the narrow alley. "The moment you ate Jax, you lit up the radar like a flare. You're not a ghost anymore, kid. You're a beacon for every marrow-hunter in the district."
Cain tried to shake her off, but she pinned him against the damp brick wall. The distance between them vanished. He could smell the sharp scent of ozone and expensive leather clinging to her. Her eyes—sharp, predatory, and shimmering with a golden hue—scanned his face with a clinical intensity that made his skin crawl.
"Stop twitching," she whispered. Her gaze dropped to his chest, where the forbidden bone was still humming, a low, hungry vibration that felt like a second heartbeat. "You don't even know what you've woken up, do you?"
"I know it tastes better than starving," Cain spat, staring back. "And I know you've been looking for me. Why? If I'm just a 'beacon' for killers, why save me?"
Sela’s lips curled into a thin, dangerous smile. She reached up, her gloved finger tracing the line of his jaw. The leather was cool, but the pressure was threatening. "Because a beacon is useful. And because you're the only thing in this city that might actually be able to break the lock on the High Spire."
Before he could ask what the hell that meant, a scream echoed from the street. It wasn't a human scream—it was a sonic pulse. A wave of pressure slammed into them, rattling the windows of the surrounding tenements.
"They're here," Sela muttered. She stepped back, her hand sliding to the hilt of a blackened blade at her hip. "Listen carefully. You have two choices. You can stay here and let them carve you open while you're still breathing, or you can sign a Blood Binding with me right now."
"A Binding?" Cain stiffened. "That's a slave contract. I'm not signing my life away to another General."
"Not a slave contract, you idiot. A symbiotic anchor," Sela countered. She stepped closer again, her voice dropping to a low, commanding hum. "The Devouring Bone in your chest is unstable. It'll eat you from the inside out within forty-eight hours if you don't have a stabilizer. I am that stabilizer. I provide the anchor; you provide the... appetite."
Cain felt the bone in his chest flare. It wasn't just humming now; it was screaming. *Eat her,* the voice hissed in the back of his mind. *Her marrow is pure. Her rank is divine. Consume her and become a god.*
He leaned in, his eyes darkening. For a second, the power dynamic shifted. He wasn't the prey; he was the predator. He could feel the heat radiating off her, the sheer density of her power. It was an invitation. A feast.
Sela didn't flinch. She didn't even move. She just watched him, her pupils narrowing. "Go ahead," she challenged, her voice a silken dare. "Try to bite. See how fast I rip your spine out through your throat before you even taste the first drop."
Cain recoiled, the hunger receding but not disappearing. He was shaking, not from fear, but from the sheer effort of not lunging at her. "What's the catch? Nobody gives away a stabilizer for free."
"The catch is that you belong to me until I say otherwise," Sela said. She pulled out a small, crystalline needle filled with a shimmering violet liquid. "And you do exactly what I tell you. No questions. No side quests. You are my weapon, my ghost, and my key. If you betray me, the Binding doesn't just kill you—it erases your soul from the marrow-stream. You won't even be a memory."
"Sounds like a fair deal," Cain sneered. "I get to live, and you get a dog."
"I prefer the term 'investment,'" Sela replied.
She didn't give him time to reconsider. She grabbed his wrist, her grip bruising, and jammed the needle into the vein of his forearm.
Cain let out a choked yell. It felt like liquid fire was being pumped into his blood, racing toward his heart and colliding with the Devouring Bone. The collision was violent. He fell to his knees, his vision blurring into a haze of gold and violet.
"Stay with me," Sela commanded, her voice sounding like it was coming from underwater. She knelt over him, her weight pressing him into the dirt. She leaned down, her breath warm against his ear. "Feel it, Cain. The anchor is setting. You're not just a scrap of trash anymore. You're mine."
As the pain subsided, a strange clarity washed over him. He could feel her. Not just her presence, but her pulse, her mood, the sheer scale of her ambition. It was a tether, a thin, unbreakable wire connecting their essences.
"Now get up," she said, pulling him to his feet with a sharp jerk. "We have to move. The High Council has already put out the alert. You're not just a missing person anymore."
She reached into her cloak and tossed a small, holographic projector onto the ground. A shimmering red screen flickered into existence. It was a bounty list.
Cain looked down and felt his blood turn to ice.
There, at the top of the 'Priority Zero' list, was his own face. Not the face he had now—but the face he'd had before the stripping. The same eyes, the same arrogant tilt of the chin. Below the image, the text was stark and brutal:
**SUBJECT: CAIN OF HOUSE VALERIUS. STATUS: ROGUE. BOUNTY: 10 MILLION MARROW-CREDITS. DEAD OR DISSECTED. ALIVE PREFERRED FOR CORE EXTRACTION.**
"Ten million?" Cain whispered. "I'm worth that much?"
"To the people who want to peel you like a grape? Yes," Sela said, her eyes glancing toward the end of the alley where the sound of heavy boots was getting closer. "And that's why we're not going back to your old home. We're going to the Black Market."
"Why?"
Sela stopped abruptly and turned to him, her face inches from his. She reached out, her hand lingering on the collar of his shirt, pulling him slightly closer. The tension was thick, a mixture of threat and something far more electric.
"Because," she whispered, "the person who paid for that bounty isn't the Council. It's someone who knows exactly what's inside you. And they're already waiting for us."
Just then, a loud, metallic clang echoed through the alley. A massive, armored figure landed ten feet away, the impact cracking the pavement. The soldier wore the crest of the Divine Inquisition—the same people who had stripped Cain's marrow three years ago.
"General Sela!" the soldier roared, his voice amplified by a helm. "Step away from the specimen. By order of the High Priest, the boy is to be recovered immediately. Any interference will be treated as treason."
Sela didn't move. She didn't even look at the soldier. She kept her eyes locked on Cain, a small, wicked glint in her gaze.
"Treason, huh?" she murmured. She shifted her grip on Cain's arm, her fingers digging in. "Cain, do you want to see how this thing works?"
"What thing?"
"The Binding," she said. She suddenly shoved him forward, right into the path of the armored giant. "Now. Eat him."