Chapter 7 · The Price of a Memory

"Don't move. One more inch and I'll break your legs myself."

Cade’s voice was a jagged blade. He slammed me against the cold stone of the clock tower, his arm locked across my chest, hauling me back from the seventh red tunnel.

I couldn't breathe. The black lock embedded in my sternum wasn't just humming—it was screaming. Every pulse sent a shockwave through my ribs, dragging me toward the open maw of the gate like a magnet.

"I can't—Cade, it's pulling me!" I gasped, clawing at his forearm.

His skin was burning. His muscles were coiled tight, like a spring about to snap.

"Fight it!" he snapped. His face was inches from mine. I could smell blood and old rain. His eyes were frantic, searching mine for something I didn't know I had.

"What is this?" I yelled, struggling against him. The air tasted like copper and ozone.

"The Prime Gates don't just open, Lorne. They trade," Cade hissed, his grip tightening until I winced. "You give them a piece of yourself to get out. But this one... this one is different."

"Different how?"

"It's not asking for a memory," he whispered. "It's asking for the key.