Chapter 25 · The Bloodwell Bait

The bloodwell entrance looks like a subway maintenance hatch, except it's bleeding.

Not dripping. Bleeding. The metal frame pulses, dark red seeping through rivets that shouldn't exist on a structure this old. The air smells like copper and something else—something that makes my teeth ache.

Grayson stands twenty feet back with his private army fanned out in a half-circle. Forty men, maybe more. All armed. All wearing the same tactical gear that makes them look like they're about to storm a compound instead of standing in an abandoned Court plaza.

"Your choice, Ivy," Grayson calls out. His voice echoes off the stone walls. "You go down alone, we stay up here. You try to bring your pet heir? My men move in, and I turn every captive in that well into a soldier. Bloodline command works fast when you know the right words."

Silas is vibrating next to me. I don't need to look at him to feel it—the bond's pulling tight between us, hot and jagged. His hand's on his blade.

"Don't," I say quietly.

"He's threatening to weaponize your people."

"I know what he's doing."

Mara crouches near the hatch, fingers tracing the bloody rivets. "This seal's fresh.