Chapter 12 · Council's Brand

"Drop the deck and put your hands where I can see them, or I'll carve the answer out of your chest."

Silas Quinn didn't walk into the room; he invaded it. He stood in the doorway, a silhouette of sharp edges and expensive wool, his voice cutting through the silence like a razor. Behind him, two enforcers moved in, their faces blank, their eyes scanning for the Pact Deck.

I couldn't move. My mind was a shattered mirror. I tried to remember the badge I’d held for a decade, the weight of the steel on my hip, the oath I’d sworn—but there was nothing. Just a cold, gaping hole where my identity used to be. The deck felt like a lead weight in my hand, the card with Silas’s name still humming with a sick, rhythmic vibration.

"Cole, give it to him," Eve hissed. She was suddenly beside me, her hand gripping my elbow. Her fingers were digging in, a warning. "Don't be a hero. You don't even know who you are right now."

"I know I'm not a fucking coward," I spat, though my voice sounded thin.