Chapter 22 · The Blood-Sealed Archive

"Take your hand off her, Marek, or I'll break every finger one by one."

Rafe's voice cracked across the tribunal chamber.

Marek's grip tightened around my wrist. His thumb pressed over the black vein beneath my skin, right where the tribunal's blood seal had branded me.

The mark burned. My knees dipped.

Marek smiled at the watching judges. "Still pretending she's yours, Dain? That's cute."

"Pretending?" Rafe stepped down from the witness platform, his coat dragging over the stone. "You forged the evidence against her. You sold weapons to the Ash rebels. And now you're putting your hands on my wife in front of the entire tribunal. Pick one mistake to die for."

My pulse kicked.

Wife.

Rafe had used that word before. Never like this. Not as part of our blood pact. Not as a legal shield.

He'd said it like Marek had no right to stand within ten feet of me.

Marek heard it too. His mouth tightened.

"Your fake marriage doesn't give you royal authority," he said.

"Neither does that pretty uniform," I snapped. "But you've been wearing it while ordering executions."

A murmur rolled through the chamber.

Marek jerked me closer. His shoulder slammed into mine.