Chapter 7 · The Kiss That Wakes the Blood

They're going to kill him.

I can see it in the way the eleven elders lean forward, their faces blank as marble. Silas is on his knees in front of the throne—not bowing, just too weak to stand. His shirt's still torn from the wound I closed, blood dried black against his ribs.

The white-haired elder who showed me the book steps forward. Her name's Magistrate Thorne. I know because Lady Casta whispered it to me two minutes ago, right before she shoved me into this circle of old monsters pretending to be civilized.

"Silas Vane." Thorne's voice echoes off the stone ceiling. "You have broken the oldest law. You claimed a vessel without Council approval."

Silas doesn't look up. "I claimed my mate."

"Your mate." Thorne's mouth twists. "A human carrier of royal blood does not become your mate simply because you wish it. She is the Court's property. She was always the Court's property."

I'm standing ten feet behind him. Mara's somewhere in the shadows—I can feel her watching, but she's not stupid enough to get in the middle of this.