Chapter 26 · You don’t get to decide when I stop being a reporter

I turned my head enough to look at him. His mouth was inches from my cheek.

"You don’t get to decide when I stop being a reporter."

"And you don’t get to decide what happens to me."

"This time, I do."

His gaze dropped to mine.

For one breath, the archive disappeared. There was only his hand over mine, his chest at my back, and the rough edge in his breathing.

Then I drove my thumb into the oathstone.

The chamber exploded with light.

Calian jerked away from me. A black line split across the guardian mark at his throat, slicing down beneath his collar. He made a sound—short, furious, real—and dropped to one knee.

"What did you do?" I shouted.

"Get away from me!"

"You’re bleeding."

"Lia, get back!"

The mark tore open like burned skin. Blood ran under his collar, dark against his throat. The oathstone screamed without making a sound. The pressure hit my teeth, my eyes, the bones in my hands.

"Tell me how to stop it!"

"You can’t.