Chapter 9 · The Hollow Cure - Chapter 9: It Knows Her Name

"Get your hands off me, Kael!"

Lyra’s voice cracked, but she didn't pull away. She couldn't. Kael had her pinned against the cold, damp stone of the ruin's inner sanctum, his fingers locked tight around her wrist. The blood-contract on her skin was humming, a low-frequency vibration that felt like needles under her pores.

"You're shaking," Kael snapped, his voice harsh. He wasn't looking at her. He was staring at the thing on the altar—the preserved brain of his former master, suspended in a shimmering, viscous fluid that looked like liquefied diamonds. "If I slip, if I nick the wrong lobe, the memory burns. We lose the cure. Everything we bled for becomes a waste of time."

Lyra let out a jagged breath, her chest heaving against his. The scent of him—bitter herbs and old copper—filled her senses. "Then do it. Rip it out. I don't care if it hurts. Just stop the crystallization before I turn into a statue in your arms."

Kael finally looked at her. His eyes were dark, clouded with a mixture of professional obsession and something that looked dangerously like guilt.