Chapter 3

I threw the case at his face.

The case hit his nose. He cursed and dropped the weapon.

"That was not yours to throw!" Riven snapped.

"You are welcome!"

The second Warden rushed me.

I ducked under his arm, hooked his ankle, and yanked. He went down hard. His knife skittered beneath the press.

The third grabbed my braid and jerked me backward.

Pain flashed across my scalp.

"Got you," he growled.

"You really should stop saying things before you earn them."

I drove my elbow into his ribs.

He barely moved.

His hand tightened in my hair.

Riven saw it.

The black fire around him surged.

The Warden's face drained of color.

"Ash, control yourself!" he shouted.

"Let her go," Riven said.

His voice was quiet now.

That was worse.

The Warden pulled me in front of him and pressed a short blade beneath my jaw.

"Put out the fire."

Riven took one step forward.

The Warden pressed the blade closer.

"One more and she bleeds."

I felt the edge touch skin. Not deep. Just enough to tell me he meant it.

Riven stopped.

The black fire twisted around his wrists.

"You have no authority to threaten a civilian," he said.

"You are wanted for treason. The courier is wanted for theft. Nobody here is a civilian."

"You do not know what is in that case."

"We know it belongs to your family. That is enough."

"Then you know your orders are wrong."

The Warden laughed near my ear.

"Your orders are the reason this city is still standing."

"Whose orders?" I asked.

The blade shifted slightly.

"Shut up."

"No. I am curious. Is this Evelyn Thorne's idea of a delivery service?"

The Warden's grip jerked.

There it was.

The reaction. Small, but real.

I smiled.

"Thought so."

"You do not know her."

"I know she signs the life ledgers. I know she collects debts from people who cannot pay. I know her inspectors never chase a courier unless someone important is scared."

Riven's gaze cut to me.

"You have met Thorne?"

"Not personally. She sent a clerk to break my thumb last month."

"Why?"

"I was late with a payment."

"You are under a city debt contract?"

"Try to sound less delighted."

The Warden shoved me toward the door.

"Enough talking."

Riven moved with him.

The fire around his body pulled tight, shrinking into thin black lines beneath his skin.

"Release her," he said. "Take me instead."

"You are coming with us either way."

"Then why keep her?"

"Because she touched the case."

My stomach tightened.

"What does that mean?"

The Warden's mouth curled.

"You really do not know."

Riven's eyes went to the case lying near the press.

"Do not let them open it," he said.

"I was not planning to invite them over for tea."

"Talia. Listen to me."

His voice landed differently this time.

No command. No sharp edge.

Just urgency.

The Warden dragged me another step.

The distance between Riven and me widened.

Five steps.

Six.

His breathing changed.

The black lines under his skin thickened.

"Riven?"

"Do not move farther."

"I am being held at knifepoint. You want to take that up with him?"

"Talia, stop."

"You stop. You are the one setting the room on fire."

The ceiling above us groaned.

A black flame curled over the doorframe.

The Warden swore and pulled me harder.

Riven's hand slammed into the floor.

The room bucked.

The Warden lost his balance.

I twisted free, but the blade caught the collar of my coat and tore fabric instead of skin. I drove my heel into his knee. He went down with a shout.

Riven crossed the room in two strides.

He seized the Warden by the front of his armor and lifted him off the floor.

"Tell Thorne," Riven said, "she does not get the case."

The Warden clawed at his wrist.

"You are already dead."

"Not yet."

Black fire climbed Riven's arm.

I grabbed his wrist.

The power hit me like a train.

For one second, every sound vanished.

Then the fire rushed into my hand.

It did not feel like stealing a key or breaking a ward. Those powers were small. Clean. They came loose with a tug and left a cold spot behind.

This was alive.

It slammed against my bones and snarled.

I saw flashes that were not mine. A stone throne. A bloodstained signet. A man with Riven's eyes standing over a body. A sealed door covered in old black marks.

Then the images vanished.

The Warden dropped to the floor.

Riven stared at me.

Black fire ran up my arm to my shoulder.

"What did you do?" he asked.

I looked at my hand.

Flame moved between my fingers, thin and dark, without heat. My skin buzzed. The metal case on the floor began to vibrate.

"I have no idea."

"Give it back."

"I do not know how."

"Give it back!"

He grabbed both my shoulders and pushed me against the press.

His body blocked the room. Heat rolled off him. His face was close enough that I could see a tiny cut beneath his lower lip.

His thumb pressed into the muscle near my collarbone.

"You took it from me."

"You told me to steal force."

"Not that force."

"You should have been more specific."

He leaned closer.

The black flame under my skin answered him, sliding toward my chest.

My breath caught.

His gaze dropped to my mouth again.

This time he didn't look away fast enough.

"Stop looking at me like that," I said.

"Like what?"

"Like you are deciding whether to threaten me or kiss me."

For half a beat, he went still.

Then his expression hardened.

"I am deciding whether you are useful alive."

"Liar."

His hand tightened at my shoulder.

"You have no idea what I am deciding."

"Your pulse says otherwise."

His eyes flashed.

Mine probably did too. I could feel his heartbeat through the space between us, fast and uneven. Or maybe it was the fire in my chest. Maybe both.

A groan came from the floor.

The Warden was reaching for his crossbow.

Riven turned his head.

I shoved him away and kicked the crossbow across the room.

"You are welcome again."

"You talk too much."

"You keep almost killing me. It gives me things to talk about."

The Warden crawled toward the broken door.

Riven raised one hand.

"No."