Chapter 18 · The Inquisitor's Tomb

"Take your hand off her, or I break every finger one by one." Cassian's voice came from the dark, low and sharp enough to cut through the hiss of leaking steam.

Lyra felt the inquisitor's glove tighten around her throat.

"Your captain is in no position to make demands," the man said.

"He's not my captain."

"Then why are you watching his pulse?"

Her fingers were pressed against Cassian's wrist. She hadn't noticed moving that close to him. His back was pinned against a cracked stone pillar, one knee bent, a chain locked around his ankle. Blood ran from the corner of his mouth. He still looked more dangerous than the man holding her.

That was the problem with Cassian Vance. Even half-bound and bleeding, he made a room feel too small.

Lyra drove her heel down.

The inquisitor grunted. His grip slipped just enough for her to twist free. Cassian surged forward at the same time, chain snapping tight between his ankle and the iron ring in the floor.