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"Say that again." Rowan’s hand closed around Tessa’s wrist before she could touch the seal.
The black mark under her skin pulsed once.
“Let go.”
“Not until you tell me what it said.”
His grip wasn’t painful. That made it worse. Rowan never grabbed her like he needed to. He grabbed her like the decision had already been made.
Tessa twisted hard. His fingers tightened. His thumb pressed against the inside of her wrist, right over her racing pulse.
“Get your hand off me.”
“Your heart just skipped.”
“Maybe it hates you.”
“Your heart doesn’t have opinions.”
“Mine does.”
The seal warmed between them. A thin line of red crawled beneath Tessa’s skin, racing from her wrist toward her elbow.
Rowan’s eyes dropped to it.
“Don’t lie,” he said.
“I’m not.”
The mark flared.
Pain punched through her chest.
Tessa folded, one hand flying to her ribs. Rowan caught her before her knees hit the stone floor. His other arm locked around her waist, pulling her against him. Heat pressed through his coat. His breath brushed the side of her face.
“Try again,” he said, low and close. “What did it say?”
Tessa dragged in a breath. It came out thin and shaky, which she refused to blame on him.
“It used my mother’s nickname.”
Rowan went still.
That reaction told her more than any confession could have.
“What nickname?” he asked.
“You heard it.”
“I heard a whisper.”
“You heard the words.”
“I heard you gasp.”
“Liar.”
His jaw tightened. “Careful.”
“Or what? You’ll stop my heart again?”
The seal answered for him.
A second pulse hit her chest. Tessa’s breath snapped off. Her fingers grabbed the front of Rowan’s coat, twisting the fabric between them.
He looked down at her hand.
“Let go,” he said.
“You first.”
“You want to win an argument while your heart is trying to quit?”
“I want the truth.”
“You want to stay alive.”
“Both.”
“Then stop making me choose.”
The words came out rough. Not angry. Worse. Frightened.
Tessa stared at him.
Rowan noticed. His gaze sharpened, and he eased his arm from her waist. The second he loosened his hold, she shoved him back.
He moved less than an inch.
“Don’t touch me like I belong to you,” she said.
“You’re chained to me.”
“That isn’t the same thing.”
“No.” His eyes stayed on hers. “It isn’t.”
The seal throbbed between their wrists, binding them with a strip of red light no wider than a finger. It had appeared three days ago. Since then, Rowan could feel every lie she told. Tessa could borrow his power, but every borrowed spark lit another tracker somewhere in the city.
Power up and live.
Light up every hunter in Greyharbor.
A soft click came from the tunnel wall.
Rowan turned instantly.
Tessa saw the change before she heard anything else. His shoulders squared. His hand went to the blade at his hip.
“What was that?” she whispered.
“Stay behind me.”
“Try asking.”
“Fine. Please stay behind me while something crawls toward us through a sealed rift tunnel.”
“That sounded almost polite.”
“Don’t get used to it.”
A metal plate in the wall slid open.
Three small blue lights blinked inside the cavity.
Tessa stepped toward it.
Rowan caught the back of her jacket and yanked her against his chest.
“Did you miss the part where I said stay back?”
“Those are Council relay lights.”
“I know.”
“Then they can hear us.”
“They can hear the seal.”
“Same problem.”
The relay clicked again. A distorted voice crackled through the opening.
“—all sectors remain locked. Confirm visual on the stolen seal.”
Tessa’s stomach dropped.
Rowan pushed her behind a broken support pillar and crouched beside her. His knee pressed against hers in the cramped space. His shoulder blocked most of the opening.
“Did you bring them here?” he murmured.
“You’re the one who used my power.”
“You begged me to use it.”
“I told you to keep me alive.”
“You said, ‘Burn the damn door down.’”
“Same thing.”
“Not even close.”
Another voice answered through the relay.
“Seal signature is active. Warden Vale is confirmed with the target.”
Tessa’s eyes snapped to him.
“Target?”
“Don’t start.”
“They’re calling me a target.”
“They’re calling me a traitor.”
“Are you?”
Rowan’s head turned. His face was inches from hers now. In the weak blue light, the scar along his cheek looked darker. His fingers rested on the hilt of his blade, but his other hand hovered near her wrist.
“Ask me again,” he said.
“Are you a traitor?”
“No.”
The seal stayed quiet.
Tessa watched his eyes. No flare. No pulse. No pain.
“So you still work for the Council.”
“I used to.”
“That wasn’t the question.”
“It’s the answer you get.”
The relay spat static.
“Warden Vale, step away from the carrier. By authority of the Meridian Council, surrender the seal and the rift runner.”
Tessa leaned closer to the relay. “You can hear me, right?”
Rowan caught her chin and turned her back toward him.
“Don’t.”
“Why?”
“Because they want you to answer.”
“Maybe I want them to know I’m not dead.”
“They already know.”
His thumb stayed beneath her jaw for half a second too long.
Tessa felt the rough edge of his glove against her skin. She should have slapped his hand away. Instead, she caught his wrist.
“Tell me what you know about my mother.”
His expression shut down.
“There it is,” Tessa said. “That face.”
“What face?”
“The one you wear when someone asks the wrong question.”
“You ask every question like a knife.”
“Because people like you only tell the truth when they’re bleeding.”
“And you think I’m the one holding back?”
“You knew that nickname.”
“I knew a lot of things.”
“Then use your mouth.”
Rowan’s gaze flicked to her lips before returning to her eyes.
The pause was small. It still landed between them.
“Say it,” he said.
Tessa’s grip tightened on his wrist. “What?”
“The nickname.”
“You say it.”
“Quill.”
“That’s not it.”
“You know it is.”
“No, I know you’re scared of it.”
His fingers flexed once under hers.
The relay voice rose in volume. “Vale, you have thirty seconds to comply. Failure to surrender will authorize lethal force.”
Tessa looked toward the wall. “They’ll fire into the tunnel.”
“They won’t.”
“You sound sure.”
“They need the seal intact.”
“They don’t need me intact.”
“No.” Rowan’s voice dropped. “They don’t.”
The mark around her wrist pulsed again. This time it didn’t hurt. It tugged.
Not toward Rowan.
Toward the relay.
Tessa pulled free and reached for the blue-lit plate.
Rowan grabbed her before her fingers touched it. He spun her around and pinned her against the stone support. His forearm braced beside her head. The front of his coat brushed her shoulder. His body blocked the tunnel, leaving her nowhere to go except through him.
“Move,” she said.
“Give me one reason.”
“My mother’s voice came through that thing.”
His face changed.
Only for a heartbeat.
Tessa saw it anyway.
“You heard her?” he asked.
“Not her voice. A recording. Maybe.”
“What did she say?”
“You know what she said.”
“Tell me.”
“She called me Tessie.”
The air between them seemed to lock.
Rowan’s eyes went cold.
“Your mother never called you that.”
Tessa stopped breathing.
“What did you say?”
“She hated that name.”
“You never met her.”
“I met her.”
The words hit harder than the seal.
Tessa shoved both hands against his chest. He caught her wrists and held them above her head, not crushing, not gentle either.
“When?” she demanded.
“Before the breach.”
“What breach?”
“The one that killed half your district.”
“My mother disappeared before that.”
“No.”
“You don’t get to correct me about my own family.”
“She disappeared after it.”
The seal flashed red.
Tessa’s heart stumbled.
Rowan’s grip tightened immediately.
“Breathe.”
“Let go.”
“Breathe, Tessa.”
“You’re lying.”
“I’m not.”
The seal remained dark.
Tessa stared at the mark, then at him.
“You saw her.”
“Yes.”
“She was alive.”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“I don’t know.”
The mark burned.
Tessa cried out and drove her knee into his thigh.
Rowan grunted, but he didn’t release her. He shifted his weight, trapping her legs with his, his face now close enough that she felt the heat of his breath.
“You do know,” she said.
“I know where I saw her.”
“Then say it.”
“I can’t.”
“Can’t, or won’t?”
“Both.”
The seal flared again.
Pain cut through her chest. Rowan’s control snapped into place. His hand slid down to her wrist, thumb pressing against the mark.
“Stop.”
“Make me.”
“Tessa.”
“Tell me the truth!”
“I am trying to keep you alive long enough to hear it.”
“By hiding it?”
“By keeping the seal from killing you.”
“Maybe it should kill me.”
His eyes went flat and dangerous.
“Say that again.”
“Maybe I’d rather die than spend three days chained to a man who knows where my mother is and keeps feeding me scraps.”
Rowan’s face came within an inch of hers.
“Don’t turn your life into a weapon against me.”
“Why not? You’ve turned it into a leash.”
His breath caught.
For one sharp second, neither of them moved.
The relay clicked behind him.
“Ten seconds, Warden.”
Rowan released one of her wrists and reached for the seal.
Tessa jerked her arm away. “What are you doing?”
“Borrowing enough power to break the relay.”
“That lights every tracker in the city.”
“I know.”
“You’ll get us both killed.”
“They’re about to breach the tunnel.”
“Then find another way.”
“I’m fresh out.”
A dull impact shook the stone behind the relay.
Dust dropped from the ceiling.
The Council had started cutting through.
Rowan looked at Tessa’s wrist. “I need your permission.”
She blinked. “You need what?”
“The seal won’t open for me unless you let it.”
“You said it was chained to both of us.”
“It is.”
“You can stop my heart without asking.”
“To stop it. Not to use the power.”
Another impact. The relay plate bent inward.
Rowan stepped closer. His hand hovered over hers.
“Choose,” he said. “We burn through the wall, or they come in and take you.”
“And you?”
“They’ll execute me in the tunnel.”
“That’s not my problem.”
“No.” His mouth tightened. “It isn’t.”
The words should have made it easier.
They didn’t.
Tessa could feel the heat from his palm without him touching her. His eyes stayed on her face, waiting. Not ordering. Waiting.
That was more dangerous than the command voice.
“If I say yes,” she said, “you tell me everything about my mother.”
“I tell you what I know.”
“Not good enough.”
“It’s what I can promise.”
“You don’t make promises.”
“I’m making one now.”
The seal pulsed between them.
Tessa swallowed. “And if you lie?”
“Then you’ll know.”
“Because my heart stops?”
“Because the seal will tell you.”
She studied him. The hard line of his mouth. The tired shadows under his eyes. The way he kept his hand still even as the tunnel shook around them.
He needed her alive.
But he also needed her to trust him.
That was the only piece of power she had left.
Tessa placed her palm against his.
His fingers closed around hers at once.
The contact sent heat up her arm. Not pain. Not exactly. His skin was warm, his grip firm, and the seal woke beneath them like something hungry.
Rowan’s breath brushed her cheek.
“Say it,” he whispered.
“Use the power.”
The seal opened.
Red light burst through the tunnel.
The relay screamed. Every blue light turned white. Rowan’s body jerked as power tore through their joined hands and slammed into the wall.
Stone cracked.
The relay plate exploded outward.
Tessa cried out and clung to him. Rowan dragged her down as shards of metal whipped over their heads. His arm wrapped around her shoulders, pressing her against his chest while the tunnel filled with sparks.
“Are you hurt?” he asked.
“Ask me after you stop frying the city.”
“I’m trying.”
“You’re doing a terrible job.”
The red line around their wrists climbed higher, past her elbow, across his forearm. It burned bright enough to throw shadows across his face.
Then every light in the tunnel went dead.
For two seconds, there was nothing but their breathing.
Tessa realized she was still holding his coat.
Rowan realized it at the same time.
His hand remained at the back of her neck.
“Let go,” she whispered.
“You first.”
“I hate you.”
“Good.”
“Good?”
“Means you’re still thinking clearly.”
She looked up. “You really don’t know how to say anything normal.”
“I know how.”
“Prove it.”
His gaze dropped to her mouth again.
The tunnel shook.
Rowan pulled away so fast the cold rushed between them.
“Move,” he said.
“Coward.”
“Alive coward.”
He seized her hand and dragged her toward a narrow side passage. Tessa stumbled after him, still dizzy from the borrowed power.
“You said we broke the relay,” she said. “Why are we running?”
“Because breaking it sent a signal.”
“To who?”
“Everyone.”
They reached a rusted service door. Rowan kicked the lock. The door opened into a cramped maintenance shaft lined with old cables.
Tessa shoved past him. “You could’ve mentioned that before I agreed.”
“You agreed because they were coming.”
“You manipulated me.”
“I gave you a choice.”
“You held my wrist and stared at me until I took it.”
“That was the choice.”
She spun on him. “You’re unbelievable.”
Rowan stepped into the shaft and pulled the door shut behind them. The darkness pressed close. His shoulder brushed hers as he reached past her to lock the inner bar.
His voice came beside her ear.
“Keep your voice down.”
“Make me.”
His hand landed on the wall next to her head.
Tessa felt him behind her, close but not touching. Heat gathered along her back. The seal tugged toward him, matching their pulses.
“Don’t tempt me,” he said.
“Is that a threat?”
“It’s advice.”
“From the man who just turned half the city’s tracking grid on?”
“From the man who can hear guards cutting through the door.”
Tessa held still.
There it was. The faint scrape of tools against metal. Voices on the other side.
“Can they open it?” she asked.
“Eventually.”
“How long?”
“Not long enough.”
“Then why are you standing there?”
“Because the shaft splits.”
“And?”
“And one side leads to the surface.”
“The other?”
“Deep storage.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
“Deep storage is where the Council kept failed rift experiments.”
“Failed how?”
“Hungry.”
Tessa felt for the knife at her belt. “You could’ve led with that.”
“You would’ve complained.”
“I’m complaining now.”
“Keep doing it. Means you’re breathing.”
The seal gave a faint pull.
Tessa looked down. A thin red thread stretched from her wrist toward the right-hand passage.
Rowan saw it.
“Storage,” he said.
“Why is it pointing there?”
“Because the seal wants something.”
“Of course it does.”
“Don’t follow it.”
“Then tell me what’s in there.”
“I don’t know.”
The seal stayed dark.
Tessa narrowed her eyes. “You do know.”
“I know what the Council called the project.”
“What project?”
“Echo Vault.”
Her skin prickled.
The whisper from earlier had sounded like her mother. Not close. Not perfect. But enough to make every old wound open at once.
“Why would an echo vault know my nickname?”
Rowan’s silence answered first.
Then he said, “Because your mother built it.”
Tessa’s fingers curled around the knife.
“You said you didn’t know where she was.”
“I don’t.”
“You knew she built this place.”
“I knew she worked on the seal.”
“You knew.”
“Yes.”
“And you still dragged me down here?”
“I dragged you away from a firing squad.”
“You dragged me toward my mother.”
“I dragged you toward the only exit.”
The service door buckled behind them.
Rowan caught Tessa by the shoulders and turned her toward the split in the shaft.
“Pick.”
“Surface.”
“Surface is sealed.”
“Then storage.”
His hands tightened. “That place may be worse than the Council.”
“You said pick.”
“You don’t understand.”
“No, you keep making sure I don’t.”
The door buckled again. A blade punched through the metal.
Rowan’s eyes went to the growing hole, then back to her.
“If we go in there,” he said, “you stay beside me. No touching the walls. No answering voices. No following anything that sounds familiar.”
“Why?”
“Because the vault learns what you miss.”
The blade tore downward.
Tessa stepped into the right passage.
Rowan cursed and followed, catching her hand before she could pull away.
“Don’t let go,” he said.
“You said no touching.”
“I meant the walls.”
“Convenient.”
“Necessary.”
The passage dropped sharply. They half-ran, half-slid through the dark. Tessa’s boots struck metal steps. Rowan stayed behind her, one hand locked around hers, the other holding his blade ready.
Behind them, the service door crashed open.
“Rift runners!” someone shouted. “They went down!”
Tessa glanced back. “They’re following.”
“They can follow.”
“You have a plan?”
“Several.”
“Any good ones?”
“No.”
She almost laughed. It caught in her throat when a screen flickered to life below them.
Then another.
Then six more.
Old Council displays covered the walls of the chamber at the bottom of the steps. Most were cracked. Some showed dead static. One showed a frozen image of a woman with dark hair pulled over one shoulder.
Tessa stopped so fast Rowan collided with her back.
His hand caught her waist.
“Don’t,” he said.
“That’s her.”
“I know.”
“You said you didn’t know where she was.”
“I don’t.”
“She’s on the screen.”
“That’s not her now.”
Tessa stepped closer.
The woman on the screen looked younger than the mother Tessa remembered. Her mouth was set in the same stubborn line. A silver chain circled her wrist.
The seal pulled toward the image.
A voice crackled from the speakers.
“Tessie?”
Tessa froze.
Rowan’s hand closed around hers.
“Don’t answer.”
“Tessie, sweetheart, can you hear me?”
Tessa’s throat tightened. “Mom?”
The screen image twitched.
Rowan moved in front of her, blocking the display. “It isn’t her.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I do.”
“How?”
“Because she called you something else when she was afraid.”
Tessa stared at him. “What did she call me?”
The speakers popped.
“Tessie Quill,” the voice said. “My little—”
Rowan spoke at the exact same time.
“—sparrow.”
Tessa’s blood turned cold.
The screens around them flashed white.
Every display changed at once.
The woman vanished. In her place appeared Tessa’s face, captured from a dozen angles: running through the market, breaking into the sealed archive, standing beside Rowan with blood on her sleeve.
A red banner slammed across the screens.
WANTED FOR MURDER.
Her name appeared beneath it.
TESSA QUILL.
The bounty figure rolled higher and higher until it stopped at a number large enough to buy out her family’s blood contract.
Rowan stared at the screens.
Tessa turned slowly toward him.
“You knew,” she said.
“I knew the Council would blame you.”
“They called it murder.”
“I know.”
“They put a bounty on me big enough to erase my family’s debt.”
“I know.”
“Why?”
The chamber doors slammed shut behind them.
On the nearest screen, a second line appeared:
DEAD OR ALIVE.
Rowan stepped between Tessa and the sealed exit, his blade lifting as voices gathered on the other side.
Tessa’s wrist burned beneath his hand.
“Tell me the truth,” she said.
Rowan looked at her, then at the woman frozen on the dead screen.
“Because the person you killed was—”