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"Get off me, or I swear I'll bite through your hand."
Kael shoved me through the apartment door anyway.
My shoulder slammed into the wall. His forearm pinned my collarbone, hard enough to make every breath scrape. The room was barely bigger than the hole he'd thrown me into downstairs. One narrow bed. One crooked table. One window with a cracked lock.
And nowhere to run.
"You already tried biting," he said. "It didn't work."
"You enjoyed that way too much."
His gray eyes dropped to my mouth for half a second.
Then they lifted again. Cold. Controlled. Annoyingly steady.
"Don't flatter yourself, Saint."
I smiled against his arm. "You keep calling me that like it still means something."
His grip tightened.
Outside, the city sirens screamed in three different districts. A bell tower answered from somewhere beyond the rooftops. Then the public speakers crackled to life.
"By order of the Holy Council, all gates are sealed. Citizens are ordered to report suspicious movement. The former Saint, Sera Vale, is considered armed, cursed, and hostile. Anyone providing shelter will be executed."
The message repeated.
Kael didn't move his arm from my throat.
"Hear that?" he asked.
"Hard to miss. The Council still loves my name."
"They love your bounty."
"How much?"
"Enough to make every gutter rat in Neon City brave."
I pushed at his chest. He caught my wrist before I could get leverage. His palm was warm. Mine wasn't. The curse under my skin kept turning cold, then hot, then cold again, like a dying engine trying to start.
"Let go," I said.
"Give me one good reason."
"Because if you keep touching me, someone might think you're attached."
His mouth flattened. "You think this is funny?"
"No. I think you're easy to annoy. That's close enough."
A sharp boom rolled through the district.
The window shook in its frame.
Kael released my wrist and turned toward it. I didn't waste the opening. I drove my elbow into his ribs and went for the door.
He caught the back of my coat.
The fabric snapped tight against my neck.
"Nice try."
"I wasn't trying. I was leaving."
"You leave, they catch you."
"Then I die somewhere less depressing."
He yanked me backward. My back hit his chest. His hand locked around my waist, holding me still while the speakers repeated my execution order for the third time.
His breath brushed my ear.
"You don't get to die yet."
For one stupid second, I forgot to fight.
His voice was low. Not soft. Never soft. But close enough that I felt the words against my skin.
I twisted in his hold. "You planning to keep me alive forever, hunter?"
"Until the curse is gone."
"And after that?"
"After that, I decide."
"How generous."
He pushed me toward the table. My hip struck the edge, and his body blocked the only path around it. The room smelled like old metal, bitter coffee, and the clean soap he used to scrub monster blood off his hands.
I knew that smell.
I had smelled it in Council chambers while his order called for my head.
"You dragged me into your apartment," I said. "You put me in a basement hole. You chained my wrists. Now you're standing over me like I'm already your prisoner."
"You are my prisoner."
"I'm also the only reason you're not dead."
That got his attention.
His fingers moved from my waist to the chain at my wrist. He lifted it between us. The black metal had started glowing faintly, reacting to the curse in my blood.
"Explain that," he said.
"You tied the wrong woman to yourself."
"I tied myself to the right threat."
"You don't know what you bought."
"I know exactly what I bought."
He pulled a small silver knife from his belt and set it on the table. Then he placed a folded strip of black paper beside it.
The paper bore the Council seal.
My stomach tightened.
"Where did you get that?"
"From the man who tried to put a bolt through your spine."
"You killed him?"
"He was aiming at you."
"That wasn't my question."
Kael unfolded the paper. A list appeared in red ink. Names. Districts. Rewards.
Mine sat at the top.
SERA VALE. CAPTURE OR CONFIRMATION OF DEATH. ONE HUNDRED THOUSAND SHARDS.
Below it was another line.
KAEL DRAKE. HARBORING A HERETIC. THREE HUNDRED THOUSAND SHARDS.
I looked up. "You're worth three times more than me."
"The Council thinks I know where you hid the Saint Shards."
"Do you?"
"Do you?"
"If I did, would I be sleeping in a room that smells like your boots?"
"You haven't slept."
"I was busy being thrown into a hole."
A second explosion hit somewhere close. Dust fell from the ceiling. The lamp flickered.
Kael grabbed the knife and crossed to the window.
I followed, keeping the table between us. "What was that?"
"The east barricade."
"They've sealed the lower city already?"
"They sealed it six minutes after you escaped."
"That fast?"
"They were waiting for an excuse."
He glanced back at me.
"You gave them one."
"I gave them a city to fear. There's a difference."
His jaw tightened. "You burned three Council shrines."
"They were empty."
"There were people inside one."
"There were guards inside one."
"You don't get to rename the dead because it makes you feel better."
The words landed harder than his grip had.
I leaned against the table and made myself laugh. "There he is. The Holy Knight. Still polishing his little moral sword."
"Don't call me that."
"Why? It fits. Shiny armor. Clean hands. A conscience you show off whenever someone is watching."
He moved before I saw it coming.
One second he stood by the window. The next, his hand was beside my head, palm flat against the wall. His face was inches from mine.
Heat pressed between us.
His chest rose once. Twice.
Mine answered before I could stop it.
"Say it again," he said.
"Holy Knight."
His eyes narrowed.
"Louder."
"Holy Knight."
"You really don't know when to stop."
"I know exactly when to stop. I just don't care."
His gaze held mine. The room seemed to shrink around his shoulders, around the hard line of his body blocking the light. I could feel the warmth of his hand near my cheek without him touching me.
That restraint was worse than a touch.
I lifted my chin. "Are you going to threaten me, or are you just enjoying the view?"
"You're trying to distract me."
"It's working."
His eyes flicked to my lips again.
The curse under my skin flared.
Black veins of light crawled from my wrist toward my elbow. Kael's expression changed instantly. He caught my hand and dragged it into the light.
"What did you do?"
"Nothing."
"Your curse is spreading."
"I noticed."
"How long?"
"Since the coup."
"You said it started after the coup."
"That is what I said."
"You said it was fading."
"It is fading. Slowly. Painfully. With a charming little death at the end."
His thumb pressed against the glowing mark.
Power snapped through me.
I sucked in a breath. His fingers tightened around mine, and the black light pulled back from my arm.
Kael felt it too. His shoulders went rigid.
"You suppress it," I said.
"I contain it."
"Same trick. Different name."
"No. Suppression weakens the host. Containment keeps the curse from taking over."
"And how long can you contain it?"
"Not long enough."
That was the first honest thing he'd said.
I studied his face. "So that's why you brought me here. Not to hand me over. Not yet."
"I need time."
"You need me."
"Don't get excited."
"You just admitted it."
"I admitted that killing you now would be stupid."
"You keep finding prettier ways to say you can't live without me."
He stepped closer.
Our knees touched.
"Try that line again," he murmured, "and I'll bind your mouth next."
"You'd have to get close first."
His stare sharpened.
I expected anger. Maybe a threat. Instead, he reached past me and picked up the black paper.
"There are hunters in every district," he said. "The Council released your description to the city grid. Every mirror, street screen, and transit gate is showing your face."
"My face is memorable."
"You're not listening. They aren't trying to arrest you anymore."
"Then what are they trying to do?"
He placed the paper between us.
A second seal had appeared under the reward list. A narrow circle cut by three black lines.
I knew that mark.
My throat closed.
"Cleaner unit," I said.
"You know them?"
"They don't collect people. They erase them."
"Good. Then you understand why we need the pact."
I laughed once, without humor. "You want me to sign a death contract with the man who hunted me for six years?"
"I want you alive long enough to stop the curse from killing both of us."
"Both?"
Kael rolled up his sleeve.
The same black veins marked his forearm, thinner but darker. They disappeared beneath the fabric and pulsed in time with the light on my wrist.
I stared at them.
"When did that happen?"
"When I touched your blood in the alley."
"You should've mentioned that before throwing me downstairs."
"You were trying to stab me."
"You were trying to drag me to the Council."
"I changed my mind."
"How romantic."
He pushed the silver knife toward me.
"Cut your palm."
"No."
"Sera."
"Don't use my name like you own it."
"I don't own your name. I own the chain around your wrist, the door behind you, and the only power keeping your curse from reaching your heart."
He tapped the knife.
"You want out? Sign."
I looked at the door. The lock had three steel bolts. His coat hung beside it, close enough to show the hilts of two weapons. Even if I got past him, the building below was crawling with Council patrols.
He had planned this well.
I hated him for it.
I hated that he was right more.
"What do you get?" I asked.
"A tether. I can track you. Feel when the curse spikes. Pull you back if it tries to take control."
"And what do I get?"
"Protection. Shelter. Access to my suppression mark."
"You mean I become your servant."
"You become bound to me until the curse is removed."
"That sounds exactly like a servant with better branding."
"Call it whatever helps you sleep."
"I don't sleep well around armed men."
"You sleep worse around unarmed ones."
I almost smiled.
Almost.
He noticed anyway.
That tiny shift in his expression was dangerous. Not warmth. Not kindness. Interest. Like he'd found a crack in a wall and wanted to see how deep it went.
I took the knife.
Kael didn't move.
"If this kills me," I said, "I'll haunt you."
"You already do."
The words came out too fast.
His eyes hardened, as if he wanted to take them back.
I pressed the blade to my palm. "Was that almost a confession?"
"Cut."
"Say please."
"No."
"Then bleed for your pride."
I dragged the knife across my skin.
A thin line opened. One bright drop hit the black paper.
The seal ignited.
Kael caught my hand. His fingers closed around mine, warm and rough. The moment our blood touched, the room slammed with power.
The lamp burst.
The window rattled.
A mark burned across both our wrists, a thin black band with a silver line through the center.
I gasped and tried to pull away.
Kael held on.
"Don't fight it."
"Get your hand off me!"
"If I let go now, the bond tears open."
"Then let it tear!"
"It'll stop your heart."
"Mine or yours?"
"Both."
The bond tightened.
Pain shot up my arm. I stumbled into him, and his free hand caught my back. My cheek struck his chest. Beneath his shirt, his heartbeat hammered against my skin.
"Look at me," he said.
"I hate you."
"Look at me, Sera."
I did.
His face was too close. His breath moved across my mouth. He smelled like steel and smoke and that clean soap I had no business noticing.
"Breathe," he said.
"Don't order me around."
"Breathe, or we both drop."
I dragged air into my lungs.
He matched me.
In. Out.
The pain eased by a fraction.
His thumb pressed against the inside of my wrist, right over the new mark. The touch was careful. That made it worse.
"The pact has three rules," he said. "You don't leave my range without permission. You don't use the curse on civilians. And you don't lie about Council activity."
"You forgot the important one."
"Which is?"
"You don't touch me unless I allow it."
His gaze dropped to where his hand held my back.
He released me at once.
The sudden space between us felt colder than it should have.
"Fine," he said. "That rule goes both ways."
"I wasn't planning to touch you."
"You were planning to stab me."
"That was different."
A sharp chime cut through the room.
The Council paper unfolded by itself.
The red reward list vanished. New words burned across the page.
BOUND TARGETS DETECTED.
SERA VALE.
KAEL DRAKE.
TRACKING WINDOW: TEN MINUTES.
The number changed.
09:59.
09:58.
Kael swore and snatched the paper off the table.
"What did you do?" I asked.
"Nothing."
"That's my line."
He moved fast, grabbing his weapons and throwing a dark coat at me.
"Put that on."
"Why?"
"Because the ward just broadcast our location."
"To whom?"
A deep scrape came from outside the window.
Not a footstep.
A claw dragged across glass.
Kael went still.
I felt the bond pull tight between us.
"You said the Cleaner needed ten minutes," I whispered.
"I said we had ten minutes before they found us."
Another scrape.
The cracked window bowed inward.
A shadow moved across it, too tall and too thin to be human. Black fingers curled over the frame from the other side.
Kael stepped in front of me.
I grabbed his sleeve. "Move."
"Stay behind me."
"I'm not hiding behind you."
"For once, do what you're told."
"For once, make me."
He looked over his shoulder.
The bond pulsed.
His anger hit me first. Then something hotter beneath it. Fear, sharp and buried so deep he probably thought no one could reach it.
I felt it anyway.
His eyes narrowed when he saw my face change.
"You felt that," he said.
"Felt what?"
"Don't lie. The pact catches lies."
The shadow struck the window.
Glass cracked in a spiderweb beneath its hand.
Kael raised his blade.
I reached for the curse.
The black mark on my wrist flared, and every light in the apartment died.
Outside, something breathed against the glass.
Kael's fingers closed around my wrist. "Sera, don't—"