Chapter 11 · The Blood Deal

"Drop the blade, Ivy."

Cain's hand closed around my wrist before I could pull it free.

My knees dug into the dirt. The knife stayed half-buried between us, its black handle stamped with my family's silver crest.

I looked from the blade to Cain's face. "You know this crest."

His fingers tightened. Heat pressed through my skin. "I know what it means."

"Then let go."

"Not until you tell me why you were reaching for it."

I yanked once.

Cain didn't move.

He crouched in front of me, broad shoulders blocking the den's entrance. His eyes stayed on the knife like it had teeth.

That scared me more than the blade.

"I found it in the dirt," I said. "I wanted to know if it belonged to the family that left me to die."

"You already know it does."

"I want proof."

"Proof gets people killed."

"Funny. So does trusting you."

His jaw flexed.

The bond between us pulled tight, a hot wire beneath my ribs. It reacted whenever he got angry.

Or whenever I got too close.

Right now, it felt like both.

Cain lowered his voice.