Chapter 23 · The Heartlock

"Don't touch the boy." Cassian's voice slammed through Sylvia's skull as the imperial blade came down.

Sylvia caught the soldier's wrist with both hands. The edge stopped a finger from the child's chest.

"Move," the soldier snapped.

"Try me."

The soldier twisted hard. Pain shot through Sylvia's shoulder, but she held on. Behind him, three more imperial hunters blocked the only tunnel out. Their black coats were marked with the Inquisition's silver eye.

And on the stone table between them, a little boy lay strapped beneath iron bands.

He couldn't have been older than eight. His face was gray. A red shard glowed under the skin near his collarbone, pulsing in time with the second heartbeat inside Sylvia's chest.

Thump.

Thump.

Her fingers tightened around the soldier's wrist.

"What did you do to him?" she demanded.

"Nothing," the Inquisitor said. He stood behind the hunters, one hand resting on the hilt of his thin ceremonial knife. "The boy was already dying. We simply found a use for him."

Cassian pushed against her mind. "The shard is mine. Take it."

"I heard you," Sylvia hissed.

The soldier glanced at her. "Heard what?"

"Your boots squeaking.