Chapter 23 · The Forged Bloodline

"Mara, don't push the shard any deeper." Dorian's hand locked around my wrist before I could crush the glass into my palm.

His fingers were slick with his own blood. The oath mark between us burned so hard my knees nearly gave out.

"Let go," I snapped.

"No. Calder is feeding the relay through you. Every second you hold that thing, he gets more control."

"And every second we wait, he gets the army."

The black shard trembled between my fingers. My mother's voice still crawled through it, broken by static and pain.

You were stolen, Mara. Not hidden. Stolen. Dorian Rusk was ordered to—

The message had cut off when Calder flooded the vault with blood magic. Dorian had taken the backlash for me. Now he knelt in the cracked stone, one hand braced against the floor, his face drained of color.

Calder watched from the far side of the chamber. Blood ran from his nose, but he was smiling.

"You heard enough," he said. "The shard has done its job. Give it to me, and I can stop the relay."

I looked at him. "You mean you can stop hurting him."

"Same result."

Dorian's jaw tightened.