"Tell me where my brother is, or I swear I'll make this marriage your worst public mistake."
Carson Rook didn't blink.
He stood three feet away in the middle of the victory banquet, crystal glass in one hand, the other resting beside the silver control terminal on the table. Every officer and council member in the hall had turned to watch us.
The same people who'd applauded when the tribunal forced his ring onto my finger yesterday.
Carson rolled the glass between his fingers. "Still threatening your husband in front of witnesses?"
"Still hiding behind witnesses?"
The conversation around us died.
His mouth barely moved. "Your brother's alive. That's more kindness than Noah Mercer earned."
My fingers tightened around my sleeve. The contract mark beneath my skin had burned since noon. A thin red line circled my wrist, almost like a bracelet.
Almost.
"You arrested him without a trial," I said. "Then you told the city he helped sabotage the shield."
"He was caught inside a restricted ward station with stolen access keys."
"He was looking for proof."
"He was looking for another way to drag your family name through the dirt."
That hit exactly where he wanted it to.
Carson stepped closer. Smoke, metal, and the sharp soap officers used after fieldwork clung to his black uniform. A server slipped behind me, and Carson's shoulder brushed mine.
Heat flashed across my skin.
He leaned down. "Smile. The council's watching our little marriage."
"Go to hell."
"After dessert."
The orchestra struck up another song, bright and cheerful enough to make me sick. Carson set down his glass and held out his hand.
"Dance with me."
"I'd rather chew through the contract."
"You can try. The contract will outlive your teeth."
I stepped back.
His fingers closed around my wrist before I got away. Not hard enough to bruise. Hard enough to remind me that guards stood at every door and my brother was locked beneath this building.
I lifted my chin. "Take your hand off me."
"Not until you stop reaching for the terminal."
My eyes cut toward the silver device.
Carson's mouth curved without warmth. "You're terrible at pretending you aren't planning something."
"And you're terrible at pretending you have a conscience."
"That part isn't pretend."
He pulled me into the dance.
His palm settled at my waist, warm through the thin fabric of my gown. I put one hand on his shoulder and kept the other between us, hiding the ward knife strapped against my ribs.
His body was too close. His thumb rested just above my hip, steady and possessive.
"You make a beautiful prisoner," he murmured.
"You make a disgusting husband."
"We've been married less than a day. Give me time."
"I gave you one condition. Noah walks free, and I repair the city shield without your people touching my equipment."
"You gave me demands. The contract gave you terms."
"You wrote the contract."
"Your signature made it legal."
His thumb moved once against my waist.
My breath caught.
Carson noticed. Of course he did.
His eyes dropped to my mouth, then rose to meet mine. His breath brushed my cheek, warm and annoyingly calm.
"Careful, Ivy," he said. "Someone might think you like being close to me."
"Someone might think you need a knife in your throat to feel important."
"You already tried that yesterday."
"I was interrupted."
"By your survival instincts."
We turned, and the terminal came into view over his shoulder.
Six steps.
That was all I needed.
The disaster recording was inside that device. Noah had promised me proof before the tribunal took him. The original file had vanished from every public archive, but he said the enforcement chief's private system still held a copy.
Carson's system.
I let him guide me through another turn. Then my heel caught the polished floor.
His arm locked around my back before I could fall.
"Watch it."
"I'm fine."
"You almost went down."
"You almost got stabbed. We all have problems."
His grip stayed firm. "The recording you're hunting won't free your brother."
My pulse kicked. "What recording?"
"Don't insult me."
"I didn't say anything."
"Your face did."
"Maybe my face is tired of your voice."
His jaw tightened. "The disaster file is sealed under military law. If you break into it, the contract will flag you as hostile."
"And then what?"
"Your access gets cut. Your brother loses his hearing. You lose the right to repair the shield."
"You mean you get to throw me in a cell beside him."
"If you keep forcing my hand."
He said it softly.
That made it worse.
I slid my hand up his shoulder, letting my fingers press into the hard muscle beneath his uniform. His attention dropped for half a second.
Half a second was enough.
I twisted out of his hold.
Carson caught the back of my dress before I reached the table. The fabric snapped tight across my ribs, yanking me back against his chest.
His mouth came close to my ear.
"You really want to make a scene?"
"You started the scene when you married me to control my work."
"I married you to keep your brother alive."
"Don't dress up a hostage deal as romance."
His breath touched my neck. "I never called it romance."
For one sharp second, neither of us moved.
His hand spread over my stomach. My back pressed against him. The heat of his body soaked through both layers of clothing, and I felt his heartbeat beneath my trapped hand.
Fast.
Not nearly as calm as he wanted me to believe.
I drove my elbow backward.
Carson grunted and released me.
I reached the table.
My fingers closed around the terminal.
The screen flashed red. A warning symbol cut across the display.
"Ivy."
I dragged my thumb over the lower seal.
"Put it down," Carson ordered.
"Tell me the password."
"No."
"Then tell me where Noah is."
"No."
"Then watch what happens next."
I pulled the ward knife from beneath my dress and spun toward him.
The blade touched his throat.
The music stopped.
A dozen officers reached for their weapons.
Carson lifted one hand.
"Nobody moves."
His voice cut through the banquet hall. Every guard froze.
I stepped behind him and tightened the knife beneath his jaw. His back touched my chest. Smoke clung to his collar. His breathing moved slowly against the blade, each rise and fall brushing my wrist.
"Password," I said.
"You're holding a ceremonial knife at your husband's throat in front of half the city."
"You noticed."
"Put it down."
"Give me the password."
"Ivy, think. If you activate the terminal, the contract will punish you before you reach the file."
"You keep saying the contract like it's a law of nature. You wrote every ugly word."
"I signed it too."
"You signed it with a pen. I signed it with my brother's life."
Carson's hand moved, slow enough for every guard to see. He reached toward the terminal on the table.
The contract mark around my wrist flared hot.
Pain shot up my arm.
Carson felt me tense. His voice dropped so only I could hear it.
"Let go of the knife, Ivy."
"No."
"The contract's already reading you as hostile."
"Then give me the password."
"You don't know what you'll find in that file."
"I know it has something to do with Noah."
"You know nothing."
"Then prove me wrong."
His fingers stopped inches from the terminal.
The red warning on its screen changed.
A second line appeared beneath it.
AUTHORIZED BLOODLINE REQUIRED.
My breath caught.
Carson went still.
I pressed the blade closer. "What the hell does that mean?"
His eyes shifted toward the screen.
For the first time tonight, his control cracked.
"Ivy, don't—"
"What does it mean?"
The terminal chimed.
A sealed file began opening under Carson's private clearance.
His face drained of color.
I felt his pulse jump beneath my knife.
"Tell me where my brother is," I whispered, "or I'll open it myself."
Carson turned his head just enough for his mouth to brush my ear.
"If you open that file, you'll learn why Noah was never the one they were trying to kill—"
The screen unlocked.
And Carson reached for my wrist—