Chapter 21 · The Cost of Remembering

"Get away from him, Mara!"

Soren’s voice cracked, echoing off the obsidian walls. I didn't move. I couldn't. The air had turned into lead, pinning me to the floor. My lungs burned as I stared up at Riven.

He wasn't the man I’d known. Not really. He stood there with a terrifying, hollow stillness. His eyes were dead stars. A jagged, violet haze of failed magic hummed around him, making the hair on my arms stand up.

"Riven?" I whispered. My voice sounded like it had been dragged through gravel. "Riven, look at me."

He didn't blink. He didn't even seem to breathe. He just tilted his head—a slow, predatory movement that sent a chill straight down my spine. Then he blurred.

Before I could gasp, his hand was around my throat. Not squeezing. Not yet. But the pressure was absolute.

"Who are you?"

His voice was a low vibration I felt in my chest more than my ears.

I choked out a laugh. It sounded more like a sob. "Still funny, even as a mindless puppet. I'm the girl who's been dragging your ass out of trouble for three weeks."

His grip tightened. Just a fraction.