Chapter 6 · Inquisitor's Grip

"Stop struggling, Alice. You're only making the cuffs tighter."

Silas’s voice was a low vibration against my ear. His chest pressed hard into my back, pinning me against the cold stone pillar of the terrace. My wrists were locked in mana-suppressing iron. It bit into my skin, and the sudden loss of my system abilities felt like someone had ripped the oxygen out of my lungs.

One second I was a goddess of destruction. The next? Just a girl in a shredded dress with no way to fight back.

"Get off me!" I spat, wrenching my arm. The metal groaned. It didn't budge.

"You think you can just kidnap me after that circus?"

Silas didn't flinch. He leaned closer, breath hot against my skin. "Kidnap? I'm saving your life. Those Executioners over there don't care about your family name. They’re paid to erase you from the map."

I glanced past his shoulder. Three men in black masks. Their blades hummed with a sickly violet light. They were just waiting. Vultures circling a dying animal.

"Let them try," I snapped, though my voice shook. "I've died once already. What's one more time?"

He paused.