Chapter 14 · The Gilded Lie

"Get your hands off me, Rook!"

Nora shoved Kane the second they hit the sludge-slicked floor of the Rookery. The air tasted like copper and old sewage, thick enough to chew. She scrambled back, boots sliding in the grime, chest heaving.

*The second key must willingly crown the heir.*

The prophecy from the contract was still burned into her retinas.

Kane didn't chase her. He stayed half-crouched in the dim, greenish light, eyes tracking her every move. He looked too calm. That was the problem. He’d just absorbed her magic like it was nothing, and now he was looking at her like a puzzle he’d already solved.

"You're shaking," Kane said. His voice was a low rasp, echoing off the damp stone.

"I'm fine. I'm great," Nora snapped. She wiped black grease from her cheek, her fingers trembling. "I'm just wondering if I should've left you in the tomb. 'Willingly crown you'? What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

Kane took a step forward. Just one. "It means Silas isn't just hunting me. He's hunting the part of you that can make me a king."

"I'm not a crown-bearer.