Chapter 12 · The First Incision

"Don't you dare pass out on me, Mira."

Silas's hand locked around my wrist. Hard. Hot. The scalpel was still kissing that thin open line on his throat and the black stuff was welling up around the steel, thick as ink, pulsing like it had a heartbeat of its own.

"Let go," I hissed. "You're moving. You're gonna rip it wider and then I can't close it."

"Then hold me still, Doctor." His breath hit my cheek. Too close. "You're the one holding the knife. So hold it right."

I could hear the guard still breathing hard in the doorway. "My lord, the children — they all stopped. At once. They stopped singing."

"I heard you the first time," Silas said, but he didn't look at the guard. His eyes stayed on me. On the blade. "Say it again and I'll cut your tongue out for wasting air. Get out. Close the door."

The guard swallowed. "But they were calling her name. They were calling for her —"

"Out!"

The door slammed. The lock clicked. And just like that it was us again. Forced proximity doesn't cover it.