Chapter 20 · The Blood Beneath the Throne

"Take your hand off me, Rafe. If you hesitate again, I swear I'll break it myself."

Black restraints bit into my wrists. Red light crawled beneath my skin, hot enough to make my fingers shake.

Rafe stood between the two pillars, one hand clamped over his chest where the second chain had wrapped around his ribs.

He wasn't touching me.

That was the problem.

The throne knew exactly how to hurt us. It kept him three steps away and made every second of his hesitation burn through my blood.

"I'm not hesitating," he said.

"You're staring at the blade in your hand."

His fingers tightened around the short black knife. The edge had been carved from the same stone as the throne. Thin red lines pulsed along it, matching the mark branded over my heart.

"The blade is tied to the control seal," he said. "If I cut the wrong place, it takes your heart with it."

"Then stop cutting the wrong place."

His jaw flexed. "You want me to guess?"

"No. I want you to look at me instead of staring at the crown's little trick."

The chamber cracked.

My back slammed against the throne.