Chapter 37 · That's not possible

He turned my palm upward. The scar there had begun to glow, matching the line in his blood on the table.

His own scar lit beneath the cuff of his shirt.

Same shape.

Same sharp split through the center.

My mouth went dry.

"That's not possible," I whispered.

"I said show me."

"You already saw it."

"The other one."

His hand moved toward his collar.

I slapped it away. "No."

Silas went still. "You think I'm asking because I want to hurt you?"

"I think you ask for everything like you already own the answer."

"Klaus told me the scar on my chest came from the night my brother died. He said it was a mark from the blade used in the ritual."

"And you believed him?"

"I was seventeen. My brother was bleeding out in front of me. Klaus was the only one who came back with a story."

His voice dropped on the last sentence.

I had never heard it sound like that. Not weak. Worse. Stripped bare.

The chamber lights flickered.

A line of red fire crawled from his wrist up beneath his sleeve.

"Silas." I reached for him, then stopped.