Chapter 37 · The False King’s Mark

The doors of the Thunder Tower opened without hinges.

They split down the middle of the black stone and peeled away into the walls, revealing a shaft of blue-white light so intense that Nora had to raise one arm across her face. Heat rolled over her skin. Not the dry heat of fire. This was sharper—ozone, metal, and the bitter scent of old storms trapped beneath the earth.

Behind her, something massive struck the archive floor.

The tower guard’s armored fist punched through a row of iron shelves. Scroll cases burst apart. Lightning crawled over the shattered metal, searching for a path toward the missing royal anchor.

Toward Kane.

“Nora!” Beckett shouted.

She turned just as a blade of electricity tore across the room. Kane caught it with one hand. The new ring on his finger flared, its surface still unfinished, its circuitry shifting beneath the silver like living veins. The lightning wrapped around his wrist and climbed toward his shoulder.

His teeth clenched. A dark line of blood slipped from the corner of his mouth.

“Move,” he forced out.

Nora grabbed Beckett beneath the arm and dragged him toward the open tower entrance.