Chapter 26 · The Throne's Final Key

"Take me instead. Leave him alone."

My voice cracked across the throne chamber.

The black throne didn't care.

Its chains had already punched through Rafe's coat and buried themselves in the wound beneath his ribs. Black metal wrapped around his chest and dragged him onto one knee. Blood ran over his fingers, then tapped onto the stone.

Rafe looked up through clenched teeth. "Helen, don't move."

"You're bleeding on the floor. I'm not standing here to admire it."

"That thing wants your blood."

"Then it can have mine."

The throne groaned behind him.

A red line split across its back. The carved faces along the armrests turned toward me, their mouths opening one after another with the same hungry smile.

The Directorate witnesses pressed against the far wall. Not one of them spoke. They'd come to watch Rafe die—and watch me prove my loyalty by letting it happen.

Marek stood in front of them, one hand resting on his sword.

He looked pleased.

"You heard the throne," he said. "It offered you control. Walk away from the exile, and it will accept you as the first key."

I kept my eyes on Rafe.