Chapter 12 · The Name She Buried

The shadow filled the doorway like spilled ink.

I couldn't move. Couldn't breathe. The temperature had dropped so fast my exhale came out white.

Dorian stepped in front of me. His hand found mine and squeezed once. Hard.

"Father."

The blood shadow didn't have a face. Not really. Just the suggestion of one—sharp jaw, hollow eyes, a crown that flickered like it was made of smoke. But the voice that came out of it was everywhere. In the walls. In my chest.

"You tore the insignia."

"I did."

"You renounced your claim."

"I did that too."

The shadow grew taller. Wider. The cold pressed down on my shoulders like hands. "And you think that frees you?"

Dorian didn't flinch. "I think it means you can't use succession law to keep her here."

"Succession law." The King's laugh was low and wrong. It didn't echo. It sank. "You misunderstand, boy. The law doesn't protect her. It protects the child. Royal blood belongs to the Crown. Always."

My free hand went to my stomach. The baby kicked. Just once. Like it knew.

"She leaves with me," Dorian said. His voice was quiet. Steady. "Or you lose both of us.