Chapter 5

Carson's crest.

"I don't joke about ownership, Miss Vale," the auctioneer purred. He leaned back, eyes gleaming. "The transfer was automatic. The moment Mr. Rook accepted the collar and the blood-exchange, the debt shifted. He didn't just buy your sister's freedom. He bought the deed to her life."

He smiled, thin and cruel. "He is, by every legal standard of the Cartel, her master."

I whipped my head toward Carson. He looked like hell. The heavy iron collar dug into his neck, runes pulsing a sickly violet in time with his heartbeat. He was slumped against the pedestal, chest heaving, eyes clouded.

"Carson," I whispered. It sounded like a plea and a curse. "Tell me this is a trick. Tell me you didn't just become the thing we're fighting."

Carson blinked. He tried to speak, but the collar flared. A jolt of electricity slammed through him. He gasped, back arching, muscles straining against the restraints.

"I... didn't... choose this," he wheezed. His voice was a raw scrape.

"Oh, but he did!" The auctioneer stepped closer, waving the soul copy. "He chose to save you, didn't he? Or maybe he just wanted the leverage. Imagine it. Evelyn Vale, the woman who cuts bonds for a living, now tethered to a man who owns her own flesh and blood. Delicious."

I didn't think. I lunged.

I grabbed the auctioneer by his silk lapel and slammed him into the vault wall. His skull hit the stone with a wet thud. I didn't give a damn about the guards. I didn't care that I was outgunned. I wanted that paper.

"Give it to me," I hissed, my face inches from his. "Now. Or I'll carve the runes right out of your skin."

The auctioneer laughed. It was a rattling, wet sound. "And then what? You'll cut the bond? Go ahead. Try it. But look at your partner, Evelyn. Look at him."

I glanced back. Carson wasn't just struggling anymore. The curse—the one that turned him into a living prison—was leaking. Black, oily smoke curled from the collar, smelling of ozone and rotting lilies. The floor around his boots began to spider-web.

"If you cut the bond while he's in this state," the auctioneer whispered, "the backlash won't just kill him. It'll rip through the link and take your sister with it. You'll be freeing her by erasing her from existence."

I let go of the man as if he were made of fire. I stepped back, breath coming in jagged bursts.

"Liar," I said. My voice shook.

"Am I?" He straightened his suit. "Check the fine print. The Rook bloodline doesn't just own; it absorbs. He is the vessel. Your sister's contract is now fused to his soul. To sever one is to sever both."

I looked at Carson. For the first time, I saw something other than pain in his eyes. It was a warning.

"Evelyn... get out," he rasped. "The seal... it's breaking. I can't hold it."

"I'm not leaving you in a collar," I snapped.

"You're not leaving me?" A ghost of a smile touched his lips. "Since when did you start caring about the guy who owns your sister?"

"Shut up," I snarled. "Just shut the hell up."

I moved toward him. I could feel the heat radiating off him—a dry, oppressive warmth that made the hair on my arms stand up. The runes weren't just glowing; they were eating into his skin, leaving charred, blackened rings around his throat.

I reached out. My fingers hovered an inch from the metal.

"Don't," Carson warned, his voice a low vibration. "If you touch this while the curse is peaking, it'll jump. You'll be the one in the collar."

"I can handle it," I lied.

I couldn't. The second my fingertips brushed the iron, a shock like a lightning strike slammed into my spine. I screamed, jerking backward, but the collar didn't let go. A shimmering thread of violet energy snapped into place, connecting my wrist to the ring around his neck.

I gasped, clutching my arm. "What the fuck was that?"

"The bond," the auctioneer chuckled. "The Rook curse loves a witness. Now you're not just a guest, Miss Vale. You're part of the circuit. You feel that? That's his life force draining into you. And your stability feeding him. A perfect, parasitic little loop."

I looked down. The violet thread was pulsing, pulling me toward Carson. I yanked my arm, but it was like being tied to a mountain.

"Get it off!" I yelled. "Take it off now!"

"I'm afraid the key is no longer in my possession," he said, backing toward the exit. "The Cartel's cleaners are already in the hall. I'd suggest you survive the next few minutes. The people coming for Mr. Rook don't believe in talking."

He vanished through the vault doors just as the first explosion rocked the building. Dust rained from the ceiling. The lights flickered into a strobe-like chaos.

I scrambled back to Carson, grabbing his shoulder to haul him up. He was dead weight.

"Come on, you idiot! Get up!" I dug my heels into the floor and pulled.

He groaned, head lolling back. "Why... why are you still... helping me?"

"Because you're a liability and I hate liabilities!" I heaved him upward.

His chest slammed against mine. The world narrowed down to the smell of his sweat and the crushing heat of his body. I could feel his heart drumming against my own ribs—fast, erratic, terrified. My thumb pressed hard into the fabric of his ruined coat.

I looked up. The vault doors were buckling. Something heavy was pushing through from the other side.

I looked at the soul copy on the pedestal. If I left it, my sister was gone. If I stayed, we were both dead.

"Evelyn," Carson whispered. "The paper. Take it."

I lunged. I snatched the parchment just as the vault doors blew inward with a deafening roar.

Figures in matte-black armor swarmed the room, weapons humming with containment spells. I didn't wait. I grabbed Carson by his shirt and dragged him toward the ventilation shaft.

We tumbled into the dark, cramped duct just as a blast of violet energy scorched the floor where we'd been standing. We slid for miles, slamming into metal, gasping for air in the suffocating heat.

Finally, we spilled out into a damp alleyway three blocks away. I collapsed onto the wet pavement, lungs burning, the soul copy clutched tight.

Carson lay beside me, staring up at the smoggy sky. The iron collar was still there, the glow dimmed to a dull throb.

I sat up, wiping grime from my forehead. I looked at the contract, then at the man who technically owned my sister.

"We're not done," I said, my voice trembling.

"I think we are," Carson murmured, closing his eyes. "I can feel it. The seal... it's not just leaking. It's counting down."

I frowned. As I watched, a new line of text etched itself into the margin. It wasn't ink. It was blood, appearing letter by letter.

*Soul Synchronization: 1%. Time to Total Collapse: 72:00:00.*

I froze. "What the hell is this?"

"A deadline," Carson whispered. He finally looked at me, his eyes dark and hollow. "In seventy-two hours, the curse finishes the transfer. If the bond isn't broken by then, it doesn't just take my soul."

He paused, his gaze locking onto mine.

"It takes yours too."