Chapter 22 · The Palace Goes Dark

The hand in the moonlight closed around Mara's wrist.

She didn't scream. She yanked back hard enough to feel bone grind, but the fingers were cold and too strong and they pulled.

Ronan's arm locked across her chest. "No."

He dragged her backward. The hand stretched with them, white and thin like something that'd been dead a long time, and the moonlight bent around it the way water bent around a drain. Mara's blood was still hot on her palm and the silver in her veins burned so cold it felt like her arm would snap off.

"Let go," she hissed, twisting. She didn't know if she meant Ronan or the thing in the light.

The throne cracked louder. A chunk of black stone the size of a wolf's head crashed down between them and the door. Nia screamed from somewhere past the rubble.

Ronan snarled and his claws came out. He slashed through the moonlight hand and it tore like wet paper. The fingers let go. Mara stumbled back into his chest and he shoved her toward the door.

"Move."

She moved.

The ruins were collapsing.