Chapter 20 · The Hollow Man

"Don't look at me like that, Mara. It's pathetic."

Soren’s voice was a razor—thin, cold, and precise. He didn't even look up from the ledger. He just leaned against the Spire’s stone wall, looking entirely too comfortable for a man who’d just handed us over to the slaughter.

I lunged. The shackles on my wrists hummed, and then bit. White-hot pain surged up my arms, slamming me back. I gasped, my breath hitching, and looked past Soren to the man by the door.

Riven.

He wasn't looking at me. He was staring at the wall, posture stiff, eyes like dead glass. He didn't blink. He didn't breathe. He looked less like a man and more like a weapon waiting for a command.

"You sold him out," I spat. My mouth tasted like copper. "You told them he was a blank slate. You gave them exactly what they wanted."

Soren finally looked at me. He smiled. It was the most honest thing about him—pure, unadulterated malice.

"I gave them the truth, darling. Riven was always a broken tool. I just showed the First Chair how to polish the shards."

"He remembers me," I whispered. "He said my name.