Chapter 18 · Shadows of the Sanctuary

"Stop pretending you don't know why we're here, Nova."

Kael’s voice wasn't the usual golden-boy chime. It was low, vibrating right against the shell of my ear as he pinned my wrists against the cold stone wall of the Sanctuary's inner sanctum. He didn't use much force, but he didn't have to. The power imbalance was a physical weight in the room—my core was a flickering candle, and he was the goddamn sun.

"I know I'm your favorite project," I spat, trying to twist my arm free. "What's the matter, Kael? Bored of playing the saint? Want to see if the villain tastes like sulfur?"

He didn't flinch. Instead, he leaned in closer, his chest brushing mine with every shallow breath I took. I could smell him—sandalwood and something sharp, like ozone before a storm. His eyes weren't kind. They were scanning me, not like a savior, but like a collector looking for a crack in a priceless vase.

"You're not a project," he whispered, his lips almost touching my skin. "You're an investment. And I'm starting to wonder if the returns are worth the risk."

I scoffed, though my heart was hammering against my ribs. "I'm a liability.