Chapter 2

"Because you need me alive."

His golden eyes narrowed. "That's your reason?"

"It's the only one you need."

The claw stopped.

Not away from my throat. Not off my skin.

Just stopped a breath before breaking it.

I swallowed against his thumb. He had my head tipped back against the stone, his face close enough that his breath brushed my cheek. Hot. Rough. Too human for the monster my family had warned me about.

"You think you understand what you woke," he said.

"I understand you haven't killed me yet."

His mouth curved without warmth. "I haven't decided."

"Decide fast. You're running out of time."

A growl rolled through his chest and vibrated against my ribs.

I kept my eyes on his. If he saw fear, he'd use it. Men like Cain always did. My father had taught me that before he smiled and handed me to the Wilds.

Cain leaned closer. "You smell like panic."

"You smell like a bad decision."

His eyes flashed.

He slammed his palm into the wall beside my head. Stone cracked. Dust sprinkled over my hair. His claws sank into the rock inches from my ear.

"You don't get to insult me while my chains are wrapped around your blood."

I went still. "My blood?"

"Don't play stupid."

"I was sacrificed by people who wanted me dead. I didn't know I'd wake a buried king with anger issues. So, no, I wasn't exactly briefed."

His fingers tightened beneath my jaw.

"Careful."

"What? You'll kill me?" My voice came out thin, but I held his stare. "Then do it. Go ahead. See what happens."

That stopped him.

The black lines around his wrist pulsed. A sharp sting cut across my palm where I held him.

I glanced down.

A thin red mark had appeared beneath my fingers.

It matched the symbol burned into the stone behind him.

Cain followed my gaze.

His expression changed.

Not fear. He was too proud for that. But something hard cracked behind his eyes. Something close enough to fear that I knew I'd found the first break in his armor.

"Take your hand off me," he said.

"You first."

"I wasn't asking."

"Neither was I."

He shoved me sideways.

My shoulder struck the wall. Pain shot down my arm, but I stayed on my feet. Cain moved with me, blocking the only way out of the cavern.

He was bigger than any man I'd ever seen. Torn black fabric clung to his shoulders, burned along the edges. Dark markings climbed his throat and vanished beneath his collar.

I'd seen those same marks around the altar before the stone split open.

They weren't tattoos.

They were chains.

"You're bound here," I said.

His jaw locked. "Say that again."

"You're bound. To this place. To the seal. Maybe to me."

"You know nothing about the seal."

"I know it lit up when my blood touched it. I know you woke when I screamed. And I know those marks tighten every time you threaten me."

I lifted my hand. The red line across my palm had crawled toward my wrist.

"I also know you're pretending it doesn't hurt."

Cain's gaze dropped to my hand.

His silence answered for him.

I stepped away from the wall.

He caught my arm before I could get around him. His palm closed over my wrist, hot and rough. The grip wasn't crushing this time.

It didn't need to be.

He could break me with one hand if he wanted.

"You think you've found leverage," he said.

"I have."

"You found a bruise. Don't mistake it for a weapon."

"Then let go."

His fingers pressed over my pulse.

My heartbeat jumped beneath them.

Cain's eyes followed the movement. For one strange second, neither of us spoke. His thumb rested against the inside of my wrist, warm and steady.

I hated that I noticed the pressure.

I pulled once.

He didn't let go.

"You're shaking," he murmured.

"I'm cold."

"Liar."

"You're the one standing half a step from ripping me apart. Forgive me if I don't feel cozy."

His mouth twitched.

Not a smile. Almost one.

That tiny movement made him look less like a nightmare and more like a man who'd forgotten how to be one.

Then the chains around his wrist tightened.

Cain jerked back with a snarl.

Dust shook loose from the ceiling.

He released me and grabbed his forearm. The black lines crawled over his skin, sinking deeper. His claws scraped the stone as he dropped to one knee.

I stared at him. "What did you do?"

"You did this."

"I didn't touch the seal."

"Your blood did."

Another pulse ripped through the cavern. The red mark on my palm burned. Cain's shoulders bowed under the force.

I should've run.

The opening behind him was narrow, but I might've squeezed through. Maybe.

The darkness beyond it clicked and breathed. The Wilds had already chased me into this place once. I had no idea what waited outside.

Cain did.

That was the problem.

He lifted his head. His eyes burned brighter now, almost molten.

"Get out," he said.

"You just said I caused this."

"Exactly. Get out before I lose control."

"And if I leave?"

"The bond will drag me after you."

There it was.

Not just a chain around him.

A leash between us.

I looked toward the cave mouth. Beyond it, Silas's hunters were searching for the girl they'd thrown away. If they found me, they'd drag me back to the altar and finish the sacrifice.

If I stayed, Cain might kill me.

If I left, they would.

"How far can you go from this place?" I asked.

Cain's stare sharpened. "Why?"

"Answer me."

"A few hundred steps. Then the seal pulls me back."

"And the bond?"

"It won't let you die while I'm alive."

My throat tightened. "You know that for sure?"

"I can feel your pulse. Your pain. Your fear." His voice dropped. "If your heart stops, mine follows."

That wasn't what I expected.

Cain pushed himself upright. The black lines around his wrist faded, but they didn't vanish. He stood over me again, blocking the firelight from the cracked altar.

"You understand now," he said. "Your life is the chain around my neck."

"And yours is the only thing keeping me alive."

"No."

"No?"

"My life is the punishment tied to yours. Don't confuse that with protection."

He reached past me and caught the stone collar of my torn coat. One sharp pull dragged me closer.

My hands hit his chest.

Heat soaked through the fabric. His heartbeat stayed hard and steady beneath my palms.

Mine didn't.

Cain looked down at my hands, then back at my face.

"You want protection? Beg."

I shoved him.

He didn't move.

"I want a weapon."

His brows lowered. "You have a knife."

"A small knife won't cut through the men hunting me."

"Then run faster."

"I tried. They caught me."

"That's because you're weak."

The words hit harder than they should've.

I pulled my hands away. "Say that again."

"You're fragile. Human. Easy to break." His gaze swept over the blood on my sleeve and the dirt on my face. "Your family offered you because they knew you couldn't survive one night out here. They were right."

My fingers curled.

"My family didn't offer me because I'm weak. They offered me because they were afraid of what I might become."

Cain went quiet.

Good.

I stepped closer instead of backing away. My body remembered his claws. I didn't let him see it.

"You want to know why I won't beg?" I asked. "The people who put me here already took everything they could. My name. My inheritance. My home. They even took the knife my mother gave me before they shoved me into the Wilds."

Cain's face stayed blank.

"They laughed while they did it," I said. "My father stood there and called it necessary. Then he smiled. Not because he was sorry. Because he thought he'd finally gotten rid of me."

The words came out too fast.

Too sharp.

My voice shook on the last one.

Cain noticed.

His hand lifted.

I slapped it away before he could touch my face.

The strike cracked through the cavern.

For one beat, neither of us moved.

Cain slowly turned his head back toward me. His eyes dropped to the red mark my palm had left on his cheek.

"You hit me."

"You reached for me."

"Most people don't survive touching me without permission."

"Then be grateful I'm not most people."

His fingers closed around my wrist.

This time, he spun me and pinned my arm behind my back. Pain pulled through my shoulder. His chest pressed against my upper back, trapping me between him and the altar.

His mouth came close to my ear.

"You keep testing the edge," he said. "One day you'll fall over it."

"Maybe I'm trying to see if you'll follow."

His breath brushed my skin.

The hold tightened, but not enough to injure me. He could've crushed my wrist.

He chose not to.

That choice mattered.

I twisted my fingers and caught the edge of his sleeve. Beneath it, the black chain-mark burned against my knuckles.

Cain hissed.

I smiled despite the pain in my shoulder. "There. That's the edge."

He shoved me around to face him.

My back struck the altar. His arm locked beside my head. His face hovered inches from mine, anger burning through every line of it.

"You think pain makes you powerful?"

"No. I think knowing where to press does."

"You know nothing about me."

"I know you can't leave. I know you can't let me die. I know my blood hurts you. And I know you need me more than you want me dead."

His breathing changed.

A slow inhale.

A hard exhale.

Heat brushed across my mouth.

For one dangerous second, his eyes dropped there.

Then he caught himself and looked away.

That hesitation was better than a victory.

It proved he could be pushed.

I leaned closer. "You want to break me? Fine. Try. But if I die, you die with me."

"You think that's enough to make me protect you?"

"No. I think it's enough to make you listen."

His claw slid beneath my chin and lifted my face toward his.

"What do you want?"

The question came out quiet.

More dangerous than the growl.

His claw grazed my skin. His palm stayed warm beneath my jaw, steady and careful despite the threat.

"I want out of the Wilds," I said.

"No."

"I want the men who brought me here dead."

"Still no."

"I want my family's gates opened. Their accounts emptied. Their name dragged through every court and council that still listens to them."

Cain's eyes narrowed. "You want revenge."

"I want them to understand what it feels like to lose everything."

"And what do you offer?"

I looked at the mark spreading across my palm.

"My blood."

His claw stopped.

"Explain."

"The seal reacts to it. Your chains react to it. If my blood can wake you, it can probably strengthen you."

"Probably?"

"You don't have time to be picky."

His expression sharpened. "You'd feed the thing that might kill you?"

"I'd feed the thing that can kill them."

"You have no idea what you're offering."

"Then tell me."

Cain said nothing.

The silence stretched.

He couldn't tell me. Maybe he didn't know. Maybe the truth was worse than anything I could guess.

I pressed my palm against the center of his chest.

The instant my blood touched him, the seal beneath the altar flared.

Cain went rigid.

His hand closed around my waist and locked me in place. Not gentle. Not cruel.

Absolute.

Heat surrounded me. His eyes stayed fixed on mine as a red line of light ran from my palm to the chains on his arms.

"Take your hand off me," he said.

"No."

"I won't warn you twice."

"You need my blood."

His grip tightened. His claws slid from his fingers, stopping a breath from my skin.

"I need—"