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Mara's hand locked around his wrist before he could take another step.
"Let go."
"Not a chance." Her grip was iron. The black mark on her forearm still pulsed faint heat through the leather bracer. Same as the one burning into his own skin. "You run at that wagon, you're dead before you hit the cobbles."
Rowan twisted, but she didn't budge. The street narrowed here, buildings leaning in like they wanted to block the view. Fifty feet ahead, two enforcers in black coats dragged Ivy toward a reinforced wagon with bars for windows. His sister's hands were bound behind her. Blood ran from her nose.
"That's Ivy."
"I know who she is." Mara's voice was flat. Professional. The kind of tone that meant she'd already done the math and decided the answer was no. "You go now, they put a bolt through your spine. Then they take her anyway."
"So what, I just watch?"
"You watch. You think. And you don't do anything stupid until I say otherwise."
Ivy stumbled. One of the enforcers yanked her upright by the collar. The other one—tall, shaved head, the kind of face that enjoyed the work—slapped her across the mouth when she said something Rowan couldn't hear.
His vision went red at the edges.
"Rowan." Mara's voice snapped like a whip. She stepped in front of him, blocking his line of sight. Close enough that he could smell leather and gunpowder and something sharper underneath. "Look at me."
He did. Her eyes were gray, cold, and absolutely certain.
"You die here, she dies alone in that wagon. You want her alive, you stay smart."
"Smart." He spat the word. "She's fourteen."
"I know." For half a second, something flickered across Mara's face. Not sympathy. Closer to recognition. "And if Crowe's people have her, it's because they think she's leverage. Which means she's still breathing."
The wagon door slammed shut. Iron lock, three bolts, reinforced frame. Rowan had cracked carriages like that before, back when he ran courier jobs that didn't ask questions. But that was with tools, time, and a lookout who wasn't also trying to arrest him.
The wagon rolled forward. Two horses, driver up front, a third enforcer riding shotgun with a repeating crossbow racked across his knees.
Mara released his wrist. "They're heading for the sea wall."
"How do you know?"
"Because that's where Crowe's been running his private projects. And because—" She stopped. Her jaw tightened. "Because in the last loop, that's where I found the bodies."
Rowan's throat went dry. "What bodies?"
"Twelve of them. Stacked in a cargo hold like firewood. All marked." She lifted her arm. The black bell symbol was clearer now, etched into her skin like a brand. No blood, no burn, just ink that hadn't been there an hour ago. "Same as this."
His own mark throbbed in response. He'd stopped asking how it worked. The reset didn't care about logic. It cared about patterns. And apparently, it cared about making sure he and Mara stayed tangled together.
"Then we go after her."
"We go smart." Mara turned, scanning the street. Most people had cleared out when the enforcers showed up. The few still watching did it from behind shutters and cracked doors. "Crowe's got funding, manpower, and a council seat. We've got a fugitive with a death sentence and a captain who's supposed to be dragging him back to the gallows."
"Sounds fair."
She shot him a look. "You always this funny when your sister's in a cage?"
"Only when the alternative's crying."
Mara's mouth twitched. Not quite a smile. More like she'd caught herself before one landed. "Fine. We move now, but we move careful. You do what I say, when I say it. No heroics. No running off. And if I tell you to drop, you hit the ground like your life depends on it."
"Because it does."
"Because it does," she agreed.
They kept to the alleys. The wagon was slow, heavy, built for cargo instead of speed. Mara moved like she'd done this a hundred times—low, quiet, eyes always two steps ahead. Rowan matched her pace. His ribs still ached from the last reset. The bruises didn't fade between loops. Just another reminder that dying didn't mean forgetting.
The mark on his arm pulsed again. Warmer this time.
Mara stopped. Held up a fist.
Rowan froze.
Ahead, the wagon had pulled into a staging yard near the docks. Three more enforcers waited there, plus a woman in a long coat with silver buttons. She stood like she owned the ground under her boots. When the wagon stopped, she walked up to the barred window and tapped twice.
Ivy's face appeared behind the bars. Pale. Defiant.
The woman said something. Ivy spat at her.
The woman didn't flinch. Just smiled. Then she gestured, and one of the enforcers opened the door.
Rowan's hand went to the knife at his belt.
Mara caught his wrist again. Slower this time. Her fingers were warm against his pulse. "Not yet."
"She's right there."
"And so are six armed guards, a mage-captain, and a kill zone with no cover." Mara's voice dropped lower. Close enough that he felt the words more than heard them. "You want her alive, you wait."
"For what?"
"For them to move her inside. Once she's in the hold, we've got options."
Rowan's jaw worked. Every instinct screamed to move. To do something. To stop standing here while Ivy got dragged deeper into whatever Crowe was running.
But Mara's hand was still on his wrist. Steady. Grounding.
"Trust me," she said.
He almost laughed. "You were dragging me to the gallows two hours ago."
"And you were bleeding out in my arms three loops before that." Her eyes locked on his. Gray and sharp and absolutely serious. "We've both got skin in this now. The mark makes sure of it."
The woman in the silver-buttoned coat turned. For a second, her gaze swept the rooftops. Rowan pressed himself flatter against the wall. Mara didn't move. Didn't even breathe loud.
Then the woman nodded, and the enforcers hauled Ivy out of the wagon.
She fought. Kicked one in the knee, twisted hard enough to wrench her shoulder, got an elbow into another's ribs. But there were too many of them. They pinned her arms, lifted her off the ground, and carried her toward a rust-stained door set into the side of a warehouse.
The door swung open. Darkness inside.
Ivy screamed his name.
Rowan moved.
Mara's arm hooked around his chest and yanked him back so hard his boots left the ground. "Don't."
"She called for me—"
"And if you answer, you both die." Mara's voice was steel. Her grip didn't give an inch. "I've seen it. You run in, they put you down, and she watches. Then they do worse."
The door slammed shut. The sound echoed across the yard like a tomb sealing.
Rowan's breath came fast and shallow. His hands shook. The mark on his arm burned so hot he thought the skin might split.
Mara let him go. Stepped back. Her own breathing was controlled, but her knuckles were white where she gripped her belt.
"Now what?"
"Now we find another way in." She turned, scanning the warehouse. "That building's got three exits. Two on the water side, one through the customs station. If we—"
Rowan's vision flickered.
Red text burned across his sight, bright enough to blind.
**CITY RESET IN 6:00:00**
**FAILURE THRESHOLD APPROACHING**
**BREACH IMMINENT**
He staggered. Mara caught his arm.
"What is it?"
"Six hours." His voice came out hoarse. "We've got six hours before the whole thing resets."
Mara's face went pale. "And the breach?"
"Sea wall." The words tasted like iron. "Whatever Crowe's building in there, it's the trigger."
She looked at the warehouse. Then at him. Her hand was still on his arm. The mark on her skin pulsed in time with his.
"Then we don't have time to be careful," she said.
Rowan met her eyes. "Thought you said smart."
"Smart and fast." Mara's mouth pulled into something sharp. Not quite a grin. "You any good at picking locks?"
"Best bad idea you'll have all day."
"Good." She released him and started moving toward the customs station. "Because if we're doing this, we're doing it now. And if you get yourself killed before we reach your sister, I'm dragging your corpse back just so I can hang you myself."
Rowan followed. His ribs ached. The mark burned. The countdown sat behind his eyes like a ticking bomb.
But Ivy was in that building.
And this time, the reset wasn't going to take her first.