Chapter 37 · The Third Key

"Take your hand off her." Rafe's blade stopped at Marek's throat before the throne could seal around me.

Marek laughed with blood on his teeth. "You don't give orders here, exile. The city chose one ruler. Me."

His fingers tightened around the crown buried in the throne's blackstone frame. The stone under my palms yanked harder, dragging my shadow toward the seat.

My knees slammed into the platform.

"Helen!" Rafe crossed the steps in three strides.

The crown answered him first.

A black chain snapped out of the throne and wrapped around his wrist. Heat ripped through the mark on my chest. I bit down until my teeth hurt.

"Don't touch it," I forced out.

Rafe looked at me instead of the crown. His gray eyes dropped to the thin line of blood running from my mouth.

"You say that like I listen well."

"You listen when I'm about to die. Usually."

"I'm right here."

"Then stop standing there and do something."

Marek shoved the crown's metal rim deeper into the throne. The platform jolted.

Blackstone soldiers raised their spears around us, faces hidden behind smooth masks.

Thousands watched from the judgment square below. No one clapped. No one shouted.