Chapter 22 · The Seventh Gate

"Get your hands off him!"

I drove my blade into the black line slashed across Ronan's chest.

The false covenant snapped tight around my wrist. Cold metal burned through my skin. On the stone platform, Ronan's body jerked once.

His eyes stayed shut.

The thing wearing his face smiled at me.

"You really want to cut him open?" it asked.

"I want you out of him."

"Same problem. Different name."

Its fingers closed around my throat.

The grip was too strong. Too familiar. Ronan's hands had pinned me against walls, dragged me out of floodwater, and once pressed against my pulse while he told me not to die on him.

This hand had his shape.

It had none of his hesitation.

I slammed my knee into its ribs. The false Ronan barely moved. His thumb dug beneath my jaw and lifted me until my boots scraped the platform.

"Mara," he said. "Stop fighting. You know what happens when the covenant breaks."

"Tell me."

"Your years go first. Then your blood. Then the city."

"You forgot the part where I care."

His smile widened. "That's exactly why you lose."

Behind him, the seventh gate groaned beneath the floor.

The chamber shook.