Chapter 27 · The Crown's Living Key

"Take your hand off her." Rafe's voice cut through the chamber before the blackstone throne finished screaming.

The crown tore itself out of the floor between us.

Thin red lines dragged it free from the stone. It wasn't gold. It was black metal, jagged along the edges, with a broken point in the center like an upside-down blade.

Blood ran from the cut in my palm toward it.

Rafe caught my wrist and pulled me behind him. His other hand clamped over the wound in his side. Blood had soaked through his shirt, dark and wet between his fingers.

"You said there was no crown," I snapped.

"I said I hadn't seen one."

"That's not the same thing."

His jaw tightened. "Helen, move back."

"No."

Red lines crawled over my boots. Heat burned through the leather. My Shadow Core twisted under my ribs, answering the throne like it recognized a voice.

Rafe stepped between me and the crown anyway. His shoulder brushed mine. Warmth pushed through my torn sleeve, steady and infuriating against the pain tearing through my chest.

"If that thing wants me," I said, "it can ask."

"It isn't asking.