Long-press a paragraph to send danmaku
"You’re not walking away from this, Mara. Not with that look in your eyes," Lucan spat. He had me pinned against the damp brick wall of the alley, his forearm pressed hard against my throat.
I couldn't breathe, but I didn't stop clawing at his wrist. "Get... off... me," I wheezed.
He didn't budge. Instead, he leaned in closer. I could smell ozone and something like old copper—the scent of the curse eating him alive from the inside. His eyes weren't just dark; they were swirling with a void that made my skin crawl. He looked less like a man and more like a predator that had forgotten how to be human.
"You tried to cage me," he whispered, his voice a low vibration that I felt in my own chest. "You thought you could just throw a few illegal wards around me and collect a paycheck from the Authority? Who do you think I am?"
I managed to bring my knee up, slamming it into his thigh. He grunted, the pressure on my neck easing just enough for me to gasp for air. I didn't waste the second. I shoved him back with everything I had, my palms sparking with the residue of the broken wards from the fight.
"I don't give a damn who you are!" I yelled, coughing as I stepped back. "I just need the money. Do you have any idea what it costs to keep a kid fed when the city has flagged you as a criminal?"
Lucan straightened his coat, his expression shifting from rage to a cold, clinical kind of amusement. He didn't look like a fugitive anymore. He looked like the heir to a throne that had been built on bones.
"Money," he said, tasting the word. "Sera Quinn is paying you in scraps while she uses you to do her dirty work. You're a tool, Mara. A disposable one. Did she tell you that?"
"Shut up," I snapped. I reached for the ward-spike in my belt, my fingers trembling. "Just tell me where you're going. If I can bring you in—even half-conscious—I can negotiate for Noah. I can get him out of that hole."
Lucan froze. The mention of my brother acted like a trigger. He stepped forward, closing the distance before I could even raise the spike. He grabbed my wrist—not the one with the weapon, but the other—and his grip was like a vice.
"Noah," he repeated. "The little apprentice. The one with the spark that hasn't been snuffed out yet."
I tried to yank my arm back, but he twisted it, forcing me to lean back against the wall again. This time, he didn't go for my throat. He pressed his chest against mine, his heat radiating through the thin fabric of my shirt. It was an overwhelming, suffocating kind of warmth, like standing too close to a furnace.
"You think Sera is the one holding him?" Lucan murmured, his lips inches from my ear. "She doesn't just hold him, Mara. She’s harvesting him. Your brother is the only reason the city core hasn't collapsed into the sea already. He's not a prisoner. He's a battery."
My heart skipped. "You're lying. You're just trying to get me to let you go."
"Am I?" Lucan pulled back just enough to look me in the eye. He raised his own wrist, where a jagged, pulsing vein of black magic was carving its way toward his elbow. "This curse is eating Vesper Bay. Every hour I stay alive, the magic in the streets dies. But I know where the cellar is. I know where the real locks are. I'm the only one who can get you through the Authority's back door without tripping every alarm in the district."
I stared at the black veins. The raw power emanating from him was terrifying, but the possibility of Noah being more than just a captive—being *used*—sent a surge of desperation through me that outweighed the fear.
"What do you want?" I whispered.
"Protection," Lucan said. "And a ward breaker who knows how to hide a scent from the hounds. You're the best in the underground, Mara. That's why I'm offering you a deal. Not a paycheck. A partnership."
"I don't partner with cursed nobles," I spat, though I didn't pull away.
"You will," he replied, his voice dropping to a dangerous velvet. "Because the moment you walk away from me, the trail to your brother goes cold forever. I'm the only key you have left."
He didn't wait for me to agree. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, obsidian-glass ring—a contract seal. Before I could react, he slammed it against my wrist.
There was a sharp, searing pain, like a hot needle driving through my skin. I screamed, trying to shake him off, but the magic snapped shut. A translucent, shimmering chain of blood-red light materialized, looping around my wrist and then extending, connecting directly to his own.
I gasped, staring at the tether. "What did you do? What is this?"
"A blood contract," Lucan said, his voice now devoid of the previous heat, replaced by a chilling satisfaction. He stepped back, giving me room to breathe, but the chain remained, humming with a low, predatory frequency. "You're my leash now. If you move more than twenty feet away from me, the contract will trigger a feedback loop. It'll fry your nervous system. And since I'm the anchor... if I decide you're no longer useful, I can just snap the link."
I looked at the red glow on my skin, the feeling of my own pulse being mirrored in the chain. I felt a sudden, sickening pull in my gut—a tether not just of magic, but of fate. I was bound to the most wanted man in the city, and he had just turned me into his personal bodyguard.
"You son of a—" I started, lunging at him to rip the thing off.
Lucan didn't even flinch. He caught my wrist mid-air, his fingers squeezing the spot where the contract met my skin. The contact sent a jolt of electricity through my spine, a spark of something that wasn't just pain. For a second, the world blurred, and I felt his hunger—not for food, but for the magic I was trying to shield.
"Don't," he warned, his eyes flashing. "You're not in a position to be temperamental, Mara. Right now, we are the same person. My life is your life. My enemies are your enemies."
I glared at him, my breath coming in ragged hitches. "I hate you."
"Good," he whispered, a smirk playing on his lips. "Hate keeps you sharp. Now, get up. We have three blocks to cover before the next patrol hits the sector, and I'd rather not have my new pet arrested before we even reach the first safehouse."
I opened my mouth to tell him exactly where he could shove his safehouse, but the sound of a heavy boot hitting the pavement echoed from the end of the alley. Then came the metallic clink of ward-shackles.
"Target spotted!" a voice roared. "Sector 4, alleyway behind the distillery! He's with a civilian!"
Lucan’s expression went stone-cold. He didn't look at me; he just grabbed the chain and yanked me toward him, slamming my shoulder into his chest to hide me behind his cloak.
"Told you," he muttered.
BAM.
The heavy iron door at the end of the alley didn't just open—it exploded off its hinges. Four of Sera’s goons charged in, their rifles humming with containment magic, the blue light illuminating the rain-slicked walls.
"Drop the girl and put your hands up, Vale!" the lead officer screamed.
Lucan tightened his grip on my arm, his fingers digging into my skin. "Do you want to save your brother, or do you want to die in a gutter?"
I didn't answer. I just felt the red chain on my wrist pulse once, twice, and then the first bolt of containment magic shrieked through the air, heading straight for my head.