Chapter 37 · The Twins' Judgement

The roar still shook the rafters when the guards threw Elder Corwin through the heavy iron doors.

He hit the stone on his knees.

Silk robes ripped down the shoulder. One shoe missing. And the first thing the old bastard did was search the hall for Julian.

Not me. Julian.

Julian sat slumped at the foot of the dais. His shirt was shredded down the back, dark with crusted blood. Maya’s tiny hands were pressed flat against the mangled curve of his spine, her palms faintly glowing as she stitched his torn nerves back together. He looked half-dead.

He was also smiling.

"Don't look at him," I snapped, stepping into his line of sight. "Look at me."

Corwin’s eyes dragged up to mine. Slow. Like every inch cost him a thousand dollars.

"Luna," he spat. Like he was choking on broken glass. "There are protocols. The council—"

"The council is right there." I pointed my chin at the dais steps.

Three old men were trembling on their knees. A fourth lay sprawled out cold on the pavers, gray-faced from the silver blade I’d buried in his shoulder ten minutes ago. Two guards had just stepped right over him.