Chapter 22 · The Heir Who Was Erased

"Give me one reason not to put this blade through your hand."

Lyra pressed the contract knife against Caelan Rook's palm. One thin line of blood slipped down his wrist and disappeared beneath the black cuff of his coat.

He didn't pull away.

That was the problem with him. He could make danger look like patience.

"Because you'd miss," he said.

"Try me."

His gray eyes dropped to the knife, then lifted back to hers. The old silver ring around his iris had widened since sunset. The eclipse was less than an hour away, and the curse inside him had already started waking up.

"You need proof I'm the heir," he said. "I need you alive long enough to read it. So put the knife down."

"You signed my death warrant."

"I signed a warrant with your name on it. That isn't the same thing."

"That is exactly the kind of sentence guilty men use when they want another ten seconds."

"Then don't give me ten. Give me five."

He moved fast.

His free hand caught her wrist and drove it against the stone wall. The knife clattered between their boots.