Chapter 11 · Black Fire Rising

"Get your hand off me, Rook."

I tried to wrench my wrist away, but Cael didn't budge. He had me pinned against the damp brick of the alleyway, his palm flat against the wall right next to my ear. The heat coming off him was unnatural, like he was running a fever that could melt steel.

"You're shaking, Mara," he whispered. His voice was a low grate, too close to my skin. "And your pulse is hammering. Tell me you don't feel it. Tell me the fire isn't screaming for me."

"I feel like I'm being cooked alive from the inside out," I snapped, though my voice betrayed me with a slight tremor. "That's not desire, that's a goddamn parasite."

I looked down at my forearm. The mark—that jagged, ink-black sigil—wasn't just sitting there anymore. It was pulsing. Every beat of my heart sent a ripple of shadow crawling an inch further up toward my elbow. It felt like liquid needles sliding under my skin, hungry and cold, even while the rest of me felt like it was on fire.

Cael shifted, his chest brushing against mine.