Chapter 15 · The Price of the Key

"Get away from him!"

Mara lunged, her voice cracking. She didn't give a damn about the Commander's smug grin or the way the vault air felt like wet cement. All she saw was Soren—or what was left of him—convulsing on the floor. The brand on his chest pulsed with a sick, violet light.

Cael caught her by the waist, hauling her back. His grip was brutal, fingers digging into her hip. His breath was hot, ragged, right against her ear.

"Mara, stop! Look at the seal!"

"Let me go!" She thrashed, slamming an elbow into his ribs. "He's my brother, Cael! He's right there!"

"He's not there anymore," the Commander purred.

She stepped closer. Her face was Mara's face—same eyes, same jaw—but colder. Sharper. A cruel mockery. "He's just a lock now, darling. A very expensive, very broken lock."

Mara froze. Her chest heaved as she stared at the obsidian door. No keyhole. No panel. Just a single, circular indentation that looked like a hungry mouth.

"What the hell is that?" Mara spat.

"The way out." The Commander tapped the glowing brand on Soren's chest with a polished nail. "But the door is picky. It doesn't want gold or blood.