Chapter 7 · Stand and Bleed

"Get your ass behind the table, Vesper! Now!"

Lucian didn't scream. He couldn't. His jaw was locked around a blood-soaked block of pine, and his spine felt like it had been replaced by a white-hot iron rod. The brass gears Silas had just hammered into his vertebrae were still humming, vibrating against his nerves in a way that made his vision blur.

Then the door didn't just open—it exploded.

Steel splinters flew like shrapnel. Four Inquisitor guards stormed in, boots thudding on the clinic's grime-streaked floor. Their white capes were stained with the soot of the slums, and their faces were hidden behind cold, expressionless iron masks.

"Clear the room!" the lead guard barked, his voice metallic and dead. "By order of the High Seat, the heretic and the surgeon are to be executed on sight."

Vesper didn't hesitate. She slammed her shoulder into Lucian’s wheelchair, shoving him toward the back wall. She came up swinging, a jagged combat knife flashing in the dim light.

"Run, you useless cripple!" she hissed over her shoulder, her voice a jagged edge of panic and fury.

Lucian stared at her.