Chapter 31 · Run or Rot

"Get your damn hands off me!" Sloane snarled.

She didn't pull away. Not even an inch.

Julian had her pinned against the jagged obsidian wall. His forearm pressed hard into her collarbone—not enough to choke her, but enough to make her feel the heat of his skin through her armor. The air between them tasted like ozone and old blood. Outside, the shadow hounds were closing in, their claws screeching against the metal floors.

"Listen to me," Julian hissed, his face inches from hers. "The Inquisitors aren't coming to rescue you. They're coming to erase the evidence. And right now? You're the evidence."

Sloane let out a sharp, jagged laugh. "And you're the prize. Why the hell should I trust a human who's been lying about his own ghost for two centuries?"

"Because I'm the only one who knows how to shut up the noise in your head."

Julian shifted. His chest brushed hers. He could feel her heart hammering—not fear, but raw, violent energy fighting to break free.

"You're vibrating, Sloane. Your mind is a fucking landslide.