Chapter 12 · When the Black Box Speaks

The last thunderbolt did not fade.

It crawled across the arena floor in white-blue veins, slipping beneath the fractured tiles and climbing the iron legs of the viewing platforms. Every lightning tower around the stadium burned to life at once. Their crowns unfolded like metal flowers, each one vomiting a column of stormlight into the black clouds above.

The floating city groaned.

Nora felt the vibration in her teeth.

Kane was on his knees beside her, one hand clamped over his chest. Smoke curled from the seams of his coat. His hair hung across his face, silver at the tips from the electrical backlash, and blood ran in a thin line from the corner of his mouth.

She caught his shoulder before he tipped forward.

“Stay with me.”

His fingers closed around her wrist with startling force. “Nora.”

“I’m here.”

“Don’t let them—” He dragged in a ragged breath. “Don’t let them take me.”

The words struck harder than the thunder.

Kane Rhoan, the man who had walked into execution chambers with a smile and threatened aristocrats while shackled, looked at her as if the entire city had already become a cage.

Nora tightened her grip on him.