Chapter 9 · The Cost of a Heartbeat

"Get your hands off me before I rip them off," Cassian spat, though the threat sounded more like a wheeze.

Sylvia didn't budge. She had him pinned against the damp brick wall of the alley, her fingers dug deep into the fabric of his ruined coat. He was shaking—not the kind of shake that comes from fear, but the kind that happens when a body is fighting its own blood.

"Shut up and breathe," she snapped. "If you pass out now, we're both dead in five minutes. I can't carry you, and you can't walk. Do the math, your Majesty."

Cassian let out a jagged laugh, his head thumping back against the brick. His skin was gray, a cold sweat slicking his forehead. "The math is simple, Surgeon. I'm a corpse with a borrowed pulse. You're just... extending the inevitable."

Sylvia felt it then—that second heartbeat. It wasn't hers, and it wasn't the one Cassian was currently using. It was a phantom rhythm, a heavy, subterranean thrumming that echoed from the depths of her own chest, vibrating against his ribs. It was the Abyss King’s original heart, somewhere out there in the city, calling to its owner like a siren.