Chapter 18 · The Blood Contract

Ronan slammed his palm against the black door before I could grab him.

The crack in the stone jumped wider.

A breath rolled out of the gap. Cold. Wet. It smelled like old blood and burned silver. Ronan's shoulders locked, and the veins in his neck went dark under his skin.

"Don't," I snapped.

His head turned toward me. His eyes were still gold around the edges.

"You heard her." His voice came out rough. "Your mother is behind that door."

"I heard a voice pretending to be my mother. There's a difference."

Nia coughed behind us. The sound scraped through the ruin and cut straight through my ribs.

I spun around. She was sitting against a broken pillar, one hand pressed to her throat. The bruises around her neck had already turned purple. Her face looked too pale under the dust.

"Mara," she whispered. "It said the king can't come in."

"I know."

"It said you can."

Ronan took one step toward the door.

I moved in front of him.

"No."

His jaw flexed. "Move."

"Try asking like a person."

"Mara."

That tone used to make guards back away.