Chapter 9 · Aftershocks & Bloodhounds

"Drop the book, Sloane. Or I'll see how many of his ribs I can snap before he stops screaming."

Varis didn't even look at the book. He was too busy enjoying the way Kaelen was pinned to the stone floor, a heavy Imperial boot grinding into the small of his back. The sound was sickening—a wet, grinding crunch that made my stomach flip.

I gripped the leather binding of the grimoire so hard my knuckles turned white. My breath was coming in shallow, jagged stabs. "Let him go, Varis. He's a vessel. He's not even human—you're wasting your time."

"Not human?" Varis chuckled, the sound cold and metallic. He leaned down, pressing the heel of his boot deeper into Kaelen's spine. "This 'thing' is a key, you brilliant, exiled little fool. A key to a door you were too scared to open. Now, the book. Now."

Kaelen let out a sound—not a scream, but a low, guttural snarl that vibrated through the floorboards. He twisted his head, his eyes locking onto mine. They weren't the eyes of the loyal boy I'd raised.