Chapter 19 · Before the Heir Kneels

"Don't touch me, Dorian. I mean it."

His hand stopped inches from my throat.

The burning mark around my wrists tightened, hot enough to split the skin. Behind me, the black vault door groaned open another inch. Metal scraped stone. Something inside dragged a weapon across the floor.

Dorian's face went hard. "If I don't break that mark, it will cook your blood."

"Then break it without putting your hands on me."

"Mara, you're standing on a military seal."

"I noticed."

"You don't know what it will do."

I twisted against the red bands locking my arms to the stone pillars. Pain shot up to my shoulders. The shattered memory core lay between us, its broken shell leaking pale blue light and my mother's voice in chopped, stuttering pieces.

"I know what you do," I snapped. "You decide I need saving, then you put yourself between me and the blade. You call it protection after."

His jaw flexed. Blood ran from the cut above his eyebrow and dripped onto his collar.

"You want me to stand back and watch the vault take you?"

"I want you to stop acting like my executioner has the right to choose how I die."