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"Don't wait until I'm a monster." Caelan slammed the hilt into my palm so hard my fingers snapped closed on instinct.
The blade was cold. His hand was burning hot over mine.
"Are you out of your mind?" I hissed. I tried to shove it back at him. He wouldn't let go. "Put that down. Right now."
"You read the clause," he said. His voice was low and wrecked. "Kill Caelan Rook before dawn on day seven, or your brother dies first. That's the deal. So do it early. While I can still ask you to."
The moon gate was screaming behind us. Literally screaming. The whole arch was lit up white-hot, the air warping around it like heat off pavement. The court sigils carved into the stone were bleeding light.
And in the middle of all that light, the contract was floating. My contract. His death warrant with my name on it, and now this new line burning itself into the parchment in wet ink.
KILL HIM BEFORE DAWN.
"I am not killing you," I snapped. My hand was shaking under his. Or his was shaking under mine. I couldn't tell. "That's what they want, Caelan. They want me to panic and do their job for them."
"They want you to choose," he said. "Me or him. And you shouldn't have to watch me turn."
His eyes flashed. Just for a second. Gold bleeding through the grey. The curse was moving again.
We had maybe thirty seconds before the gate blew or the hunt patrol found us. Mira's voice was crackling in my earpiece, half static.
"Lyra? Lyra, do you copy? The gate's destabilizing! You have to move!"
"We see it!" I yelled back. I still had the knife. Caelan still had his hand locked over mine, forcing the point up toward his chest. His chest was heaving. Sweat on his temple. He was too close. I could feel the heat coming off him, smell leather and blood and that weird storm smell that always clung to him when the curse spiked.
"Let go," I said, quieter. "Caelan. Let go of me."
"Make me."
That was the problem. He was the next wolf heir. Even half-feral he could snap my wrist without trying. But he wasn't using strength. He was using my hand. Making me hold the choice.
"You think this is noble?" I said. My voice cracked. "You think you get to decide you're the sacrifice and I'm just supposed to stab you and say thanks? Screw you."
His mouth twitched. Almost a smile. Almost.
"Fierce to the end, huh, contract-breaker?"
"Damn right." I twisted my wrist. Hard. He winced but didn't let go. "You don't get to quit. Not when you're the only thing keeping my brother alive."
That hit. His fingers loosened a fraction.
"Lyra, listen to me," he said. His forehead dropped. For a second it almost touched mine. Too close. Way too close. His breath was hot against my cheek. "If I turn inside that gate, I will kill you. Not maybe. I will. The curse doesn't care about your loopholes."
"Then don't turn," I said. "You fight it. Like you did in the alley. Like you did on the roof. You fought it for me."
"I stopped inches from your throat," he growled. "You had a blade to my neck and I still wanted to bite."
"And you didn't." I shoved the knife down, between us, pointing at the ground now. His hand still caged mine. "You stopped. You get credit for that."
The gate screamed louder. A crack split up the stone.
"Lyra!" Mira shouted in my ear. "The court just pushed the hunt signal! Every tracker in the zone is converging on your heat! You have to cross NOW!"
Caelan's head snapped toward the gate. His whole body went rigid.
"Go," he said. "I'll hold it."
"We're going together. That's the bond. Seven days, remember? You die, I die. My brother dies. Nobody gets to be a martyr."
"You really think the bond cares about noble intentions?" He laughed, sharp and humorless. He finally let go of the knife, but his other hand shot out and grabbed my wrist, yanking me flush against him. "It cares about proximity. So stay close."
His grip was iron. Not hurting, but absolute. Dominant in that way that made my pulse spike for all the wrong reasons. His face was an inch from mine. Gold still flickering in his eyes. Jaw tight enough to crack.
"You feel that?" he whispered. "That's the curse trying to decide if you're prey or pack. And I am barely winning that argument."
My breath caught. Stupid heart hammered so loud I was sure he could hear it. The heat of his palm seeped through my sleeve.
"Then let me win it for you," I said. My voice was barely there. "You need me to read it. So let me read it."
I didn't wait for permission. I grabbed the front of his jacket with my free hand and pulled him with me toward the gate.
The contract parchment flared as we moved. The new clause pulsed like a heartbeat.
KILL HIM BEFORE DAWN.
"It's a forced choice clause," I muttered, eyes scanning the tiny script bleeding in around it. The language only I could see. The loopholes. "They wrote it sloppy. Look. 'Before dawn on day seven' — but they didn't anchor dawn to which timezone. And they said 'him' not 'Caelan Rook, heir' —"
"Lyra, run, don't lawyer it!"
"I am lawyering it while we run!" I snapped. We hit the threshold. The light swallowed us. It felt like diving into ice water and fire at the same time. My ears popped. Caelan's hand tightened on my wrist like a vise.
We stumbled through. Hit solid ground on the other side. Cold night air. Real air. Trees. We were out. The hunt zone was behind us. The gate slammed shut with a boom that shook my teeth.
For a second, just a second, I could breathe.
Caelan doubled over, hands on his knees, gasping. The gold faded from his eyes. His shoulders shook.
"You good?" I asked. I reached out before I thought about it. My hand on his back. He flinched, then leaned into it for half a second before pulling away.
"Don't," he said hoarsely. "Don't be gentle with me right now. I'll misread it."
My cheeks went hot. "I wasn't — I was checking for injuries."
"Sure you were." He looked up at me, and even exhausted, even wrecked, that alpha smirk was back. "You still have my knife."
I looked down. Yeah. Still white-knuckling it.
"You gave it to me," I said.
"Keep it," he said. "In case I was right."
My earpiece crackled again. Mira, but her voice was different now. Thin. Panicked.
"Lyra? Lyra, are you through? Please say you're through."
"We're through," I said, relief flooding me. "We're out, Mira. The gate held. We're —"
"They moved it," she cut in. "Lyra, they moved your brother's clock."
My blood went cold.
"What?" I said. "What do you mean moved it? It was dawn on day seven. We have six days left."
Static. Then Mira's voice, breaking.
"Not anymore. The court just updated the docket. I’m looking at it right now. They pushed his execution up. It's not day seven anymore."
Caelan went still beside me. He heard it too.
"How far?" I whispered. My fingers went numb around the knife.
"Three hours," Mira said. "Lyra, they set it for three hours from now. And there's a flag on your file — it says identity mismatch, it says your name isn't —"
The line cut to dead static. Then my phone buzzed. Not Mira. The court system. Automated.
A single message burned onto the screen in official seal-red:
EXECUTION RESCHEDULED: JAX VOSS - 02:59:47 AND COUNTING.
Below it, a second line that made my stomach drop through the floor:
CLAIMANT NAME: LYRA VOSS DOES NOT MATCH BLOODLINE RECORD.
Caelan grabbed my arm as my knees actually buckled.
"Lyra? Hey. Hey, look at me. What does it say?"
I couldn't speak. I just held the phone out. My hand was shaking so bad the numbers blurred.
Three hours to save my brother. And the court just told me I wasn't who I thought I was —