Chapter 15 · The Price of a Soul

"Get your hands off me!"

Nora didn't scream it—she gasped it, the words strangled in her throat.

The third anchor didn't just break. It detonated. A shockwave of white-hot mana slammed into her chest, throwing her backward. Her boots skidded across the wet stone of the sewer floor, and before she could even breathe, a pair of strong arms locked around her waist and hauled her back.

Kane’s chest was a solid wall against her spine. He held her tight—too tight. His breath was a hot brand against the shell of her ear.

"Stop fighting it, Nora!" he snapped. "Push against the flow and it'll tear you apart from the inside out."

"Easy for you to say!" She twisted in his grip, spitting the words. "Your blood is the only thing keeping me from exploding, and you're just... standing there!"

"I'm holding you so you don't fly into a wall, you idiot!"

Across the chamber, the puppet that looked like Milo began to laugh. It wasn't Milo's laugh. It was wet. Distorted. Silas Vorn’s voice echoing through a stolen throat.

"Such a touching scene," the puppet sneered. The thing's head tilted at an unnatural angle, eyes glowing a sickly violet.