Chapter 11 · The Toy and the Monster

"Get out of the way, Julian!"

Sloane shoved him back, her grip on his wrist tight enough to bruise. She didn't look at him. Her eyes were locked on the messenger trembling on the floor.

"Sloane, what is it?" Julian didn't budge. He stepped back into her space, his gaze hitting the black parchment in her hand. The ink pulsed. A void-like black that seemed to swallow the room's dim light.

"It’s a decree," she hissed, crumpling the paper. "From the High Spire. They know."

"Know what?"

Julian reached out. His fingers brushed her shoulder. She was shaking—not fear, but a violent, rhythmic vibration. Pure terror.

"That I’m here? That you’re keeping a human pet?"

Sloane whirled on him. Rage and panic flashed in her eyes. She stepped in, chest nearly touching his, the scent of ozone and cold iron hitting him like a wall.

"It’s not about you being human, you idiot. It’s about *who* you’re treating. If they find out I let a mortal inside the mind of a General, they won’t just kill me. They’ll erase me. And you?" She leaned in, her voice a lethal whisper.