Chapter 22 · Finish the Wedding

The thing under the altar hit the stone from below.

Hard enough to throw all three of us sideways.

Sable slammed into a rusted cell door with a curse. Dorian caught himself on one knee, one hand pressed to his side. Blood ran through his fingers. Too dark. Too thick. Silver poisoning did ugly things to him.

Me? I was staring at the cut in my palm.

My blood had sunk into the floor cracks.

And the prison was answering.

Red lines crawled across the old black stone, branching out from my hand like veins. Every locked door in the underground level clicked open one after another.

Click.

Click.

Click.

Somewhere above us, alarms started screaming.

Sable pushed off the wall. Her face had gone pale under all that eyeliner. “We need to leave. Right now.”

The floor bucked again.

I grabbed the altar to stay upright. “What is under there?”

“No clue,” Sable said too fast.

“That means you know exactly what it is.”

“I know enough to not stand here and have a therapy session about it.”

Dorian lifted his head.

His eyes had gone gold.

Not the pretty gold I’d seen in low light.