Chapter 37 · The Sorting Ward

"Move!" Carson grabbed the back of my coat and ripped me away from the archive door.

The royal guards crashed into it from the other side. Iron blades punched through the wood. One stopped less than an inch from my cheek.

"You said this route was clear," I snapped.

"I said it used to be clear. Keep running."

He shoved me down the narrow passage before I could drive my elbow into his ribs. His hand locked around my wrist. Warm. Bloody. Impossible to break.

The black mark circling his palm burned against my skin.

Our contract had done that. Every time I pulled away, the lines beneath my skin tightened and dragged me back toward him.

"Let go of me."

"No."

"Carson."

His grip tightened. "If I let go, the ward will know we're separated."

"Maybe I want it to know."

"Then it kills you first."

That shut me up for half a second.

Behind us, the archive door groaned. Metal shrieked through the hinges.

Carson glanced back. His jaw went hard as another blade punched through the wood.