Chapter 32 · The Weapon They Made

"Get away from him!" Silas shouted.

Red fire exploded across the altar floor.

Cain slammed against the carved wall as black chains snapped tight around his arms. Stone cracked behind his shoulders. The sound ripped through me.

Not pain.

A warning.

"Cain!"

I lunged toward him.

Silas caught my wrist before I took two steps. His fingers closed over the blood-mark burned into my skin, and the bond between Cain and me went taut.

Cain's head lifted.

His eyes turned gold.

"Take your hand off her," he said.

Silas smiled. "You still think you can order me around? Look at you. Bound again. Bleeding power into the altar like some chained animal."

Cain pulled against the dark bands.

The wall split behind him.

Silas's smile slipped.

"I said," Cain growled, "take your hand off her."

"Or what?" Silas twisted my wrist. "You can't reach me. You can't even reach her. Every drop of her blood belongs to the altar now."

My knees almost gave out.

The mark burned beneath his grip. Heat raced up my arm, then dropped into my chest. The altar pulled at me like a hook buried under my ribs.

Silas leaned close.