Chapter 21 · The Heir's Warrant

The cable around my throat jerked tight, and Kane caught me before my knees hit the floor.

"Easy," he said, hauling me against his chest. "Stay with me."

Every screen in the underground core showed the same image: me hanging beneath cracked cables, blood dried on my mouth, Kane holding me upright. Beneath my face, three words pulsed across the city.

LEIA MORN.

"Get this thing off me." I clawed at the cable.

Kane raised his pistol toward the service tunnel. "I’m trying."

The cable released. I dropped hard against him, and pain flashed through my skull.

The screens changed.

FIRST DIRECTIVE REQUIRED.

For half a second, the words became a childhood bedroom. A woman’s hand rested on my shoulder, silver ring cold against my skin.

*You don’t inherit a city, darling. You inherit what it owes.*

The memory broke apart before I could see her face.

"Leia." Kane’s arm tightened around my waist. "Look at me."

I did. Blood had soaked through the bandage at his ribs.

"You’re bleeding."

"So are you."

"I asked first."

His mouth twitched, but there was no humor in it. "Then I’m fine.