Chapter 19 · The Next Vessel

"Don't move, or I'll carve that map right out of your skin."

Before I could even breathe, the Enforcer slammed me face-first into the damp brick. His forearm crushed my throat, pinning me hard enough to make the world blur.

I clawed at his sleeve, boots scraping for grip on the grit. "He doesn't even know who he is!" I choked out. I looked back, desperate. "Look at him!"

Riven just stood there. No fighting. No blinking. He looked like a statue carved from ice, staring at the soldiers with a blank, terrifying curiosity. The man who used to be the city's most feared spellbreaker was gone. In his place was a hollow shell that didn't know how to flinch.

"That's the point, Vey," the Enforcer hissed. His breath smelled like stale tobacco and ozone. "The Council doesn't need a conscience. They need a weapon. And right now? Holt's a blank slate. Perfect for rewriting."

My palm pulsed. The red map wasn't just a drawing anymore—it was vibrating, humming a low, hungry frequency that matched the heartbeat of the man behind me.