Chapter 29 · The Last Blood Oath

Julian's not breathing right.

Mara can hear it from across the room. That wet rattle in his chest. The way he's leaning against the wall like it's the only thing holding him up. Blood's soaking through his shirt, dark and spreading, and she knows—she knows—that if she doesn't do something in the next five minutes, he's gone.

The key's still hot in her palm. The mark it left burns gold under her skin, branching up her wrist like veins made of light. She can feel the city now. Every contract, every oath, every blood-signed promise threaded through Greyhaven like a web, and she's standing at the center of it.

She can also feel them breaking.

"Mara." Julian's voice is rough. "Whatever you're thinking—don't."

"Shut up." She crosses to him, grabs his arm before he can slide down the wall. His skin's cold. Too cold. "I didn't break you out just so you could die on me."

"You didn't break me out." He coughs, and it sounds like something tearing. "You traded yourself. There's a difference."

She doesn't answer. She's too busy pulling his shirt up, checking the wound. It's bad.