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The Last Door Contract

Chapter 17 · The Backdoor

"Get your hands off her, you arrogant prick!"

Lorne didn't just shout—she slammed her shoulder into Cade’s chest. She tried to shove him back from the altar, but the void chain between them snapped taut. It jerked them both forward, the cold metal biting deep into her wrist.

Cade was too hot. He smelled like ozone and old blood, radiating a feral, desperate heat that made her skin prickle.

"Stay still, Lorne!" Cade roared. His fingers dug into her waist, pinning her to prevent her from sliding into the archive's vault. "If you slip now, the door doesn't just take your memories. It takes your pulse."

"Better that than being your fucking shield!"

They were suspended over a pit of swirling ink. This wasn't a library; it was a graveyard of echoes. Below them, the vault groaned—a massive stone iris demanding a blood sacrifice to open.

Elena stood at the edge of the platform. Her white coat had a single, jagged streak of red across it. She didn't look horrified. She looked bored.

"The archive requires a blood-resonant key, Cade," Elena said. Her voice echoed, sterile and sharp. "You know the rules.

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