Chapter 67 · The Name the City Chose

"You should've run when I rejected you."

Ronan stared at our joined hands. His thumb dragged once over my knuckles—barely a touch, almost an accident. The heat between us turned sharp and intimate.

I yanked my hand, but his grip tightened.

"You should've asked me before you ruined my life."

His jaw locked. "I was trying to keep you alive."

"You failed." My voice shook, but I didn't look away. "I'm standing right here, and I'm still bleeding."

Boots thundered up the platform stairs.

The purge squad spilled onto the tower level, rifles raised. Their masked leader pointed straight at my chest.

"Last warning," he shouted. "Release the Warden and surrender."

Ronan turned toward them.

His eyes flashed silver.

"You heard her," he said. "She isn't surrendering."

"She's a traitor."

The leader's finger settled against the trigger.

Ronan's hand closed around mine again. Hard enough to hurt.

"She's my mate."

The words hit harder than the tower pulse shaking beneath our feet.

The soldiers froze.

So did I.

Ronan had rejected me in front of half of Briarport.