Chapter 31 · The Old Case Bites Back

"Take your hand off the lock, Dorian. Right now."

His fingers tightened around the iron latch.

The buried gate stood between us, black stone cut with old blood lines. Behind Dorian, the live-feed lens blinked red. Every district screen in the city was watching him stand there with my blood file under one arm and a crown warrant burning across his chest.

He looked at me, but his eyes didn't settle.

"Mara," he said. "You need to step away."

"No. You need to remember who you're talking to."

His jaw flexed. The oath mark at his throat flashed silver, then went dark.

That mark had been mine to make. Mine to break. And right now, it was biting through both of us.

I shoved the blood file into the broadcast cradle. The old machine sparked. Pages lifted in the hot air, snapping like frightened birds.

"Read it," I told the recorder. "Every page. Before Calder wipes the feed."

Dorian moved fast. He caught my wrist and dragged me away from the cradle.

His palm was hot against my skin. Too hot. His breath brushed my cheek when he leaned close.

"You don't understand what the file will do," he said.