Chapter 17 · The Heart Prison

"Don't you dare touch that scalpel," Cassian’s voice rasped, echoing inside Sylvia’s skull like a grinding gear.

Sylvia didn't freeze. She leaned closer to the operating table, the sterile scent of ozone and old blood filling her nostrils. Beneath her, the girl—no older than sixteen—was pale, her chest barely moving. But inside that chest, something was pulsing with a violent, rhythmic light. A fragment of the Abyss King.

"She's dying, Cassian. If I don't get this out, her heart will burst from the pressure," Sylvia snapped. She gripped the handle of the scalpel, her knuckles white.

"And if you do, you're feeding me," the voice sneered, suddenly closer.

Sylvia felt a sudden, searing heat bloom in her own chest. It wasn't her heart—it was *his*. The shared heartbeat spiked, hammering against her ribs. Then, her own hand moved. Not because she wanted it to, but because he was pushing. Her arm jerked, the blade sliding inches closer to the girl's skin.

"Stop it!" Sylvia yelled, fighting her own muscles. She slammed her free hand down on her wrist, pinning her arm to the table with a heavy thud. "You don't get to make me a killer. Not today.