Chapter 2

The chamber door scraped open.

I didn't know how long it had been since the eighth round. The ritualists were gone. The silver instruments lay in a heap by the wall, still wet with my blood.

Theron stood in the doorway in a tailored black coat, arms crossed, looking down at me the way you'd look at a stain on the floor.

"How long are you going to keep this up, Sera?"

I was lying in a pool of my own blood. My skin had cracked along the lines where the silver brands burned deepest, and I could see the dark veins of the Blight crawling beneath the surface. I could barely lift my head.

He didn't kneel. Didn't reach for me.

"I checked the monitoring array. The Blight's energy is holding steady." His voice was flat, clinical. "You're a Blood Hunter captain. This level of discomfort shouldn't be breaking you. Are you putting on a show? Trying to make me feel guilty?"

Discomfort.

I forced my mouth open. My throat felt like it had been stripped raw. "Theron... it hurts..."

"Enough." He cut me off. "Elowen hasn't slept in two days because of you. She keeps crying, blaming herself. She's too soft for any of this, and here you are, making yourself look half-dead just to make it worse for her."

I wanted to laugh. I couldn't.

That was when she appeared behind him.

Elowen. White dress. Soft curls. Cheeks pink and healthy. She looked like she'd just come from a garden party.

She peered around Theron's arm, and both hands flew to her mouth. "Oh — Sera, I had no idea it was this bad." Her voice trembled perfectly. "I'm so sorry. If I hadn't accidentally touched the curse source, you wouldn't be going through any of —"

"It's not your fault." Theron pulled her behind him, shielding her from the sight of me. His hand rested on the small of her back. Gentle. Protective.

He turned to me. The gentleness vanished.

"The Blight needed a host strong enough to survive the purging. You were the obvious choice. Instead of lying here feeling sorry for yourself, you should be glad you're strong enough to bear it. Not everyone can."

He meant her. He meant Elowen couldn't, so I had to.

I wanted to tell him. About the baby. About the blood between my legs that wasn't all from the ritual. About the life that had already gone quiet while he slept in our bed upstairs.

My mouth opened. Nothing came out but a wet, broken sound.

He wasn't listening anyway.

The Blight chose that moment to surge.

It hit like something detonating inside my chest. My blood core — already fractured from the ritual — let out a deep, grinding crack. The sound filled the entire chamber.

I screamed. I couldn't stop it.

The containment wards carved into the walls flared white, then stuttered. Hairline fractures split through the rune lines. The curse energy was breaching the seals.

"The wards are failing." Theron's tone shifted — sharp, tactical. Lord mode. "If her core ruptures, the Blight floods this entire level. The seals can only hold around one person."

Elowen grabbed his arm with both hands. "Theron — please — I can't be near this —"

I reached for him.

My hand — fingers broken, nails gone — stretched toward the hem of his coat. Blood smeared across the stone as I dragged myself forward.

"Don't go." The words scraped out of me like gravel. "Please... don't leave me in here..."

He looked at Elowen. He looked at the cracking wards.

He didn't look at me.

He lifted her into his arms and turned toward the door.

At the threshold, he stopped. He didn't turn around.

"You're a Blood Hunter, Sera. This chamber was built to contain far worse than the Blight. You'll be fine here. I'll come back for you."

The iron door swung shut. The sound bounced off the walls and came back to me like dirt hitting a coffin.

In the last sliver of light before the gap closed, Elowen looked at me over his shoulder.

She smiled.

I stared at my own hand — still stretched out, still reaching toward nothing.

I pulled it back.