Chapter 21 · The Price of Mercy

“Get your hands off me, Voss.”

Dax’s voice was a low growl. He slammed his shoulder into the marble pillar, trying to shake me off.

I didn't let go. Couldn't. My knuckles were white, fingers locked onto the lapel of his coat. The air in the Underground Court tasted like ozone and old paper—thick, suffocating. Above us, the masked adjudicators sat in the shadows. Their silence felt like a scream.

“You’re bleeding through your shirt,” I snapped. My voice shook. “Stop acting like you’re fine. Look at me.”

Dax stiffened. He didn't look. Instead, he twisted, pinning my wrist against the cold stone.

One move. That was all it took. Suddenly, he was the one in control. He leaned in, his breath hot against my ear. He smelled of sandalwood and metallic blood.

“You wanna play savior?” he whispered. His tone was lethal. “Which version of you is this? The one who wants to save me, or the one who planted the curse in my chest?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” I wrenched my wrist. “That woman—the other me—she did it!”

“Convenient.” Dax sneered. He stepped closer, his chest crushing mine against the pillar. I could feel it—