Chapter 11 · The Prince Breaks Rank

The guards moved before I could breathe.

Two of them, full plate and crimson cloaks, crossing the marble floor toward me. Their boots echoed. Everyone in the council chamber was still staring at the shattered crystal on the pedestal, at the ancient words glowing on the fragments. A hunter's child may never wear the crown.

I couldn't move. My hand was still bleeding from where Dorian cut it.

Lord Caster stood at the head of the table, one hand raised. His voice cut through the chaos. "Seize her. The law is clear. A bloodline hunter cannot carry royal issue. The pregnancy is a contamination."

Contamination.

Like I was a disease.

I looked at Dorian. He was standing three feet away, still holding the ceremonial blade. His face was blank. That same cold mask he always wore when the council was watching. I waited for him to say something. To do something.

He didn't.

The guards were ten feet away now. I could smell the oil on their armor. One of them had his hand on a silver chain, the kind they used for prisoners. The kind that burned.

"Dorian.