Chapter 22 · The Wrong Door

"Don't you dare pull away!"

Cade slammed me back against the cold stone pillar of the Clocktower. His hands gripped my shoulders, fingers digging into the bone through my jacket.

My chest was on fire. The black lock embedded in my skin wasn't just turning—it was screaming. A grinding, metallic shriek that echoed inside my ribs.

"Let go!" I gasped, clawing at his wrists. "She's... she's calling me!"

"She's not calling you, Lorne, she's using you!" Cade roared.

He stepped in, his chest crashing into mine, pinning me flat. His breath was hot against my cheek, smelling of old copper and desperation. "Look at the seal. Look at your skin!"

I looked down. Black veins were spidering out from the lock, crawling up my throat like ink in water. Then the voice hit—not a sound, but a vibration that rattled my teeth.

*Finish it, Lorne. Close the circle. Bring me home.*

"I can't!" I screamed, my head snapping back against the pillar. "I don't know how!"

"You do," a voice drawled.

I blinked through the blur. Silas was leaning against the archway, looking bored. But his eyes were hungry.