"Don't you dare move."
Calder’s forearm slammed against my windpipe, pinning me hard into the damp brick of the alley. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't think. All I could see were his eyes—cold, calculating, deciding which part of me to break first.
"Tell me who gave you that ring," he spat, "or I'll make sure you don't breathe for the next three minutes."
I clawed at his sleeve, nails digging into the expensive fabric of his officer's coat. "I don't... know! It was a blind drop!"
He leaned in. I could smell ozone and expensive tobacco. He tightened his grip, and suddenly, a jolt of electricity shot through my spine.
Calder flinched. He jerked his arm back like I'd burned him.
"What the hell was that?" he hissed, staring at the black band on my finger.
"I didn't do anything!" I shoved him, stumbling back. My heart was hammering against my ribs. "You're the one who touched me!"
Calder didn't look at me. He was staring at his own palm. Between us, a shimmering, ghostly chain pulsed in the air—a tether connecting my wrist to his.
He looked disgusted. "A Sympathetic Bind. Low-tier street magic. How did a gutter-rat like you trigger a high-level resonance?"
"I'm not a gutter-rat," I snapped, though I was shaking. "I'm a courier. And if you want the ring, you can take it off my dead finger, because it's not budging."
He stepped toward me. Boots clicking on wet cobblestones. He didn't just walk; he hunted.
"You think you're clever, Lena? You're framed for murder, bound to a man who arrests people like you for breakfast, and you're trying to haggle?"
"I'm stating facts," I said, voice trembling. "You can't kill me. If you do, your heart stops too. That's how these binds work, right?"
Calder paused. He was so close now I could feel the heat radiating off his chest. He reached out—not to grab me, but to snag the ring.
His fingers brushed mine.
Electric. Not just the spell. My breath hitched. He looked at me like I was a puzzle he wanted to dismantle piece by piece.
"Get your hand away from me," I whispered.
"Make me," he countered. His voice dropped to a dangerous low. He didn't pull away. He leaned in, lips inches from my ear. "Here's the deal. We're stuck until this breaks. You lead me to your employer, and I might stop the Guard from skinning you alive."
"And if I don't?"
"Then we both suffer."
To prove it, he gripped my wrist and squeezed. Hard.
I screamed. But the scream was mirrored. A crushing pain exploded in Calder's own hand at the exact same second. He let go instantly, face pale, breath coming in jagged bursts.
"Damn it," he cursed. "This is a nightmare."
"Welcome to my Tuesday,"\ I retorted.
*Squelch.*
A wet, rattling sound echoed from the end of the tunnel. We both froze.
Out of the shadows crawled something that used to be Jax. The courier I'd seen die. He was gray, skin clinging to bone like wet parchment, eyes clouded with a milky film. He dragged himself forward with broken fingers.
"Thirteen hours," Jax rasped. The voice sounded like grinding stones. "Thirteen hours until the clock hits zero. Then the city forgets. And the bodies... the bodies stay."
Calder didn't hesitate. He lunged. His hand flared with a violent burst of white light, slamming a concussive blast into the creature.
*Thud.*
Jax hit the wall, but he didn't disintegrate. He just lay there, twitching, a knowing smile on his dead lips.
"What is this?" Calder demanded. "The energy signature is... looped."
"He said thirteen hours," I whispered. "What does that mean?"
"The Core is resetting," Calder said, his voice tight. "It only happens once a century. Unless someone triggered it manually. If they did... every soul in the district gets wiped. Clean slate."
I felt a cold pit open in my stomach. "My neighbors..."
"Forget your neighbors," Calder snapped. "If the city resets, that ring is the only anchor. You won't just survive—you'll be the only thing left. Which makes you a very loud target for every spell-hunter in the city."
He grabbed my arm. Firmer this time, but not crushing. "We're moving. Now. Before the Guard scents that blast."
"Where?"
"To someone who can read archives without getting arrested. And Lena?" He leaned in. "If you run, remember: I can make us both feel like we're on fire without moving a muscle."
I glared at him. "You're a real charmer, Rane."
"I'm a realist, Voss. Move."
We cut through the under-city, where the smog turned yellow and the air tasted like copper. Every turn, I felt the pull of the chain. A constant reminder that I was tethered to a man who hated me.
We hit a heavy iron door marked with a closed eye. Calder pressed his palm to the metal, and it slid open with a groan. Inside was a library that had collided with a scrapyard. Scrolls, crystals, and tablets piled to the ceiling.
In the center sat a woman with neon violet hair and sharp glasses. She didn't look up from her book.
"Calder," she said dryly. "Did you finally find a way to lose the leash, or did you decide to start collecting strays?"
Calder sighed. "Mira, shut up and look at the ring."
Mira Quill finally looked up. Her eyes scanned me, lingering on the black band. A predatory smile spread across her face.
"Oh, Calder. You didn't just get a leash. You got the Master Key."
She stood, boots clicking on the metal floor, stopping inches from me. Her gaze was piercing. "Tell me, Lena Voss. Do you know why your mother's mark is reacting to this ring?"
I froze. "My mother? How do you know about her?"
Mira didn't answer. She turned to Calder, her expression turning ice-cold. She flipped open a leather-bound ledger stained with old blood.
"You think this is the first time you've been bound to her, Calder?" Mira whispered. "Look at the records. You've died twelve times already. And every single time... she was there."