Chapter 8 · The Prison Drops

"Don't touch that door, Tessa." Rowan's hand closed around my wrist before my fingers reached the lock.

The seal under my skin pulsed once.

Pain punched through my arm and climbed straight into my chest.

I slammed my free hand into his shoulder. "Let go."

"You open it, the vault drops."

"Then move your hand and let me make my own bad choices."

His grip tightened. Warm fingers. Hard pressure. His face stayed blank, but his thumb sat over my pulse like he was counting every beat.

The stone door in front of us groaned.

Behind it, something heavy scraped across metal.

Rowan leaned closer. His breath brushed my cheek. "You have three minutes before the seal drains you dry."

"You said three hours."

"That was before the Council activated the prison."

"Convenient."

"You think I did this?"

"I think you keep leaving out the part where you planned to kill me."

His eyes dropped to my mouth for half a second.

Then they went cold again.

"If I planned to kill you," he said, "you wouldn't still be standing."

"That's not the comfort you think it is."

A red line flashed across the seal burned into my palm.