Chapter 7 · The Altar's Choice

"Don't touch me." Cain's hand locked around my wrist before my fingers reached the bleeding wall.

His skin was hot. Not warm. Hot enough to make the cut across my palm burn.

"Let go."

"You heard the altar wake up." His voice scraped across the stone chamber. "You felt it take your blood. Why are you still reaching for it?"

"Because it's trying to kill us."

"It's trying to kill you."

The red lines carved into the wall pulsed behind him. Every pulse dragged another thin thread of blood from my palm. It ran down my wrist and vanished into the symbols around the altar.

Cain yanked me back.

The movement looked easy. It wasn't. His shoulder shook under his torn black shirt, and his jaw clenched hard enough for his teeth to grind.

I dug my boots into the floor. "You dragged me in here."

"I dragged you away from the hunters."

"You threw me through the door."

"You were about to be speared."

"And your brilliant solution was a cursed altar?"

"It wasn't cursed when I built it."

The answer hit harder than his grip.

I stared at him. "You built this?"

Cain's eyes flashed black.