Chapter 16 · Echoes of the Dead

"Get your hands off me!"

I screamed, but it was useless. The pull wasn't a hand—it was a hook buried in my gut, dragging me through the air toward the palace core.

*Slam.*

Calder tackled me, his shoulder smashing into my ribs. We hit the dirt hard. He was bleeding from a jagged cut on his forehead, red staining his pale skin, but his grip on my wrist was iron.

"Stop fighting it!" he roared over the screech of the city's signal towers. "Resist any more and the tether will snap your spine!"

"I'm not going back!" I spat, digging my heels into the grime.

He didn't argue. He just yanked me closer, his chest heaving against my back. Heat radiated off him in waves. Ozone and copper. He pinned me against a crumbling pillar, his body a heavy, solid wall blocking the wind.

"Look at me," he commanded.

His voice was a low vibration I felt in my own ribs. He grabbed my chin, forcing my eyes up to his. "You're not going as a sacrifice. You're going as a weapon. Do you understand?"

I glared at him, breath coming in short, sharp bursts.