Chapter 22 · The Blood of the Throne

"Run faster, Ivy!" Cain shouted.

"I am running!"

"Then stop sounding like prey."

A branch snapped behind us.

Cain shoved me forward. My boot slipped in the mud, but his hand caught the back of my coat before I hit the ground. He yanked me around a crooked black tree.

Three pale shapes ripped through the brush.

They looked like wolves if wolves had too many joints and moved like broken puppets. Red veins crawled beneath their gray skin. Their eyes burned the same color as the brand beneath my collarbone.

Blood-cursed hounds.

My family used them to hunt debtors through the lower villages. I’d seen what happened when someone ran too slowly.

I’d never had one this close.

"Don’t look back," Cain said.

"You just told me to stop sounding like prey. Looking back seems useful."

"Useful won’t keep your throat attached. Move."

He caught my wrist and dragged me after him.

His fingers were hot against my skin. Not warm. Hot.

The brand answered with a sharp pulse. My knees nearly gave out.

Cain noticed.

Of course he did.

His head snapped toward me. Gold flashed through his eyes.

"What was that?"

"A tree root."

"Try again.