Kael carried me through the narrow door like I weighed nothing.
His arms were locked around my back and knees, careful of the blade wound under my collarbone, but not gentle in any way that felt safe. His grip was the kind you used on something valuable that might break.
Behind us, the High Inquisitor's voice drifted after us, mild and cruel.
"Alone," he reminded Kael. "No guards. No clerks. No witnesses."
My heart clenched in answer, a sharp squeeze that stole my breath.
Kael didn't look back. He stepped into the darkness and let the door shut.
The sound was soft.
Final.
Stone swallowed us.
The stairs down were tight enough that Kael's shoulder brushed the wall. The air smelled of old wax, damp iron, and something bitter—like burned herbs. My blood dripped down his sleeve in slow, warm pulses.
I tried to keep track of turns. One. Two. Three.
Then I lost count.
Because the sunburst brand over my heart pulsed again, and my vision blackened at the edges.
Kael's voice came low, near my ear. "Stay awake."
"I'm trying," I rasped.
He didn't answer. He didn't comfort. He just tightened his hold and descended.
At the bottom, the corridor opened into a single chamber.
The purification cell.
It wasn't a normal dungeon cell with bars.
It was a room carved into the stone like a ritual bowl—round, smooth walls, no corners to hide in. Sunbursts were carved into the floor in concentric circles, and every line was filled with pale metal that caught candlelight and made it look like the room was drawn in teeth.
Chains hung from the ceiling. Not just iron—silver-threaded, etched like Kael's cuffs were.
In the center stood a chair bolted to the floor, iron arms and leather straps dried dark with old stains.
Above the chair, a small crystal sat in a metal cage, glowing faintly.
A scrying eye.
So the Inquisitor could watch.
My stomach turned.
Kael stopped just inside the threshold.
He stared at the chair for a heartbeat, expression locked into something I couldn't read.
Then he set me down—not on the chair.
On the stone floor beside it.
My knees hit hard. Pain flashed through my shoulder wound. I bit my lip hard enough to taste blood.
Kael crouched in front of me instantly.
His gloved hand came up to my throat, not choking—checking.
The cut he'd made earlier in the chamber above was still bleeding a thin line, mixed with sweat and fear.
His fingers were steady. Too steady for a man who had just been forced to almost murder my father.
"You're bleeding too much," he said.
I wanted to laugh at the absurdity. Instead it came out as a broken breath. "No one asked."
Kael's gaze flicked upward, to the crystal eye.
He leaned in closer, so his body blocked the view of his hands.
"Don't speak loudly," he murmured. "It listens."
My heart clenched in response, as if it hated hearing the truth.
I swallowed. "He can hear us?"
"Enough," Kael said.
Then he grabbed the edge of my dress and tore it down further without hesitation.
I gasped—not from modesty, not anymore—but from the sting as cloth pulled against the wound.
"Kael—"
"Quiet," he snapped, and the harshness was a disguise I understood too well. For the eye. For anyone listening.
He pulled out a roll of cloth from inside his coat—black, clean—and pressed it hard against the blade wound.
Pain exploded. I hissed through my teeth.
Kael's voice stayed flat, loud enough to be heard. "Stop squirming."
His fingers moved fast beneath the cover of his body. Not careless. Skilled.
He'd patched wounds before.
Of course he had.
"Breathe," he whispered, so low only I could hear. "Or you pass out."
"I want to pass out," I whispered back.
Kael's eyes met mine. River-dark, furious. "Not allowed."
I forced air into my lungs.
The sunburst brand over my heart pulsed again, and my breath caught mid-inhale like my body had hit an invisible wall.
Kael's gaze snapped to it.
"You feel it," I rasped.
Kael nodded once. "Yes."
"Is it… going to kill me?"
His jaw tightened. "Not while he wants you alive."
That wasn't reassurance. It was a sentence.
My throat burned. "He wants me alive to control you."
Kael didn't deny it.
His fingers tightened the bandage knot with a hard tug. "Hold this."
He shoved the cloth roll into my hand and stood.
The moment he rose, the crystal eye's glow seemed to sharpen.
Kael looked up at it, expression cold. Then he turned his head slightly toward the door and spoke loud enough for a watcher to hear.
"She's restrained."
Restrained.
I stared at him.
Kael reached up and yanked one of the ceiling chains down with brute force, dragging it toward me.
My stomach dropped. "Kael—what are you doing?"
His voice stayed cold. "What I was ordered to do."
His eyes flicked to mine, sharp.
Then his hand moved fast—too fast for the eye to interpret. He looped the chain around my waist, not my wrists, and locked it behind my back where the crystal couldn't easily see the clasp.
It looked like restraint.
It felt like a shield.
Kael's mouth barely moved. "Play along."
My heart clenched hard enough to make me gag.
I swallowed blood and nodded once.
Kael stood again and yanked my shoulders back roughly, forcing me upright as if he were positioning me like a prisoner. The movement hurt. I bit back a cry.
He bent close, face inches from mine, and spoke in a voice that would sound cruel to anyone listening.
"If you scream, I'll gag you," he said.
His breath was cold.
My body, traitorous, reacted anyway—heat licking up my spine under the terror.
Then his mouth barely moved and the real words slid out like a blade.
"The brand isn't just on you," he whispered. "It's a tether."
I stared at him. "To the Inquisitor."
"To his covenant blood," Kael corrected. His eyes flicked toward the floor markings. "And to your blood."
My stomach twisted. "My blood was on our contract."
Kael's gaze sharpened with anger that didn't belong to me. "Yes."
So he hadn't been surprised. He'd been furious.
Because it meant someone had taken that blood-marked paper from his house. Or someone inside his house had been compromised. Or the Inquisitor had a method to mimic it.
My breathing went shallow. "Did you know he could do this to me?"
Kael's eyes held mine. "I knew he would try."
The words landed like betrayal anyway.
I forced them out through pain. "And you still let me sign."
Kael's grip tightened on my shoulder, bruising. "If you didn't sign, you would've been dragged to a cell like this on the first night. Without me."
I hated how true it was.
I hated needing truth.
I clenched my jaw. "My father."
Kael's eyes flicked away for the first time—toward the door, toward the stairs above. A fraction of tension appeared at the edge of his mouth.
"They didn't kill him," he said. "Not yet."
"Not yet," I echoed, voice raw.
Kael leaned even closer, blocking the crystal eye again.
His mouth barely moved. "Listen. The Inquisitor can squeeze your heart from a distance. He will do it if I disobey."
I swallowed hard. "Then we're trapped."
"No," Kael said.
The single word came out like a vow.
He reached into his coat and pulled out something small: a thin needle, black metal, with a tiny carved groove down the center.
A ritual needle.
My stomach dropped. "What is that?"
Kael's gaze stayed on mine. "A breaker."
My heart clenched again, like it heard the word and panicked.
Kael steadied me with one hand and lifted the needle with the other, holding it where the eye could not see.
"The covenant uses blood as ink," he whispered. "So we rewrite the ink."
My mouth went dry. "With what blood?"
Kael didn't answer immediately.
He looked at my chest.
At the sunburst brand blooming over my heart.
Then he looked back at me.
"With mine," he said.
The words hit me harder than the pain.
"You can't," I whispered. "He branded you. He—"
Kael's jaw tightened. "He tried."
Then, quieter, almost inaudible: "I've been branded before."
My breath stopped.
Before?
In my last life, Kael had been untouchable. The Emperor's hound. The man who brought poison and ended lives without permission.
But right now—watching him under candlelight, chained marks still raw on his wrists—I saw something else.
A man who knew exactly how holy chains felt.
"How?" I whispered.
Kael didn't answer.
Instead he pressed two fingers lightly to the brand over my heart.
Pain flared. My vision blurred.
I grabbed his wrist instinctively, fingers shaking. "Don't—"
Kael caught my hand in his grip, firm. "If you fight me, you die."
I stared at him, throat tight. "That's your favorite line."
Kael's mouth twitched, almost—not a smile. "It's the only one that works."
He leaned in, voice low, controlled. "The breaker needle goes into the brand. It will hurt. It will feel like fire. You don't move."
My blood turned cold. "And then what?"
"And then," Kael said, "the tether shifts."
"To you," I realized.
His gaze didn't soften. "To me."
My breath hitched. "So he'll squeeze your heart instead."
Kael's eyes held mine. "Good."
The casual acceptance of it made my chest burn worse than the brand.
"No," I hissed. "I won't let you—"
Kael's hand clamped on my jaw, not gentle. His voice turned dangerously quiet. "You already let me put a sword through you to break the basin."
I went still.
Because he was right.
I'd already gambled with my body.
The only difference was whose body we gambled with now.
Kael released my jaw and looked up at the crystal eye again, as if checking whether the watcher had moved.
Then he spoke louder, cold for the audience. "You wanted the Duke? You got him. Now you pay."
He yanked the chain tighter around my waist, making me gasp.
It looked like cruelty.
It was cover.
He leaned in again, whispering. "If he thinks you're weak, he'll tighten the leash. If he thinks I'm breaking you, he'll wait."
I swallowed blood. "You're disgusting."
Kael's eyes didn't blink. "Survive."
The door behind us clicked.
Not opening.
A sound like a latch being turned from the other side.
Then a voice slid through the stone itself, amplified by the runes in the walls.
The High Inquisitor.
"Duke Rivenhart," he said mildly. "Report."
Kael didn't look at the door. He kept his posture relaxed, cold. "She's restrained."
"And her heart?" the Inquisitor asked, like discussing weather.
My vision swam.
Kael's gaze flicked to the brand. "Beating."
A pause.
Then the Inquisitor's voice softened. "Good. You will begin the rite."
My heart seized, sharp enough to make me choke.
Kael's hand closed around my shoulder, steadying me—hard enough that it could be mistaken for a threat.
"What rite?" I rasped before I could stop myself.
Kael's eyes cut to me—warning.
The Inquisitor answered anyway, delighted by fear.
"The purity rite," he said. "A confession written in blood and sealed in obedience."
My stomach dropped. "You want me to confess."
"No," the Inquisitor corrected gently. "I want you to *break.* Confessions are easy when the body learns its place."
Kael's face didn't change. "What are the steps?"
The Inquisitor chuckled softly. "So professional."
Then his voice turned mild and absolute.
"Step one: Make her beg you for mercy."
My nails bit into my palm.
Kael didn't move.
The Inquisitor continued, pleasant. "Step two: Make her renounce the ring."
My heart clenched again.
I gasped, pain ripping through my chest.
Kael's gaze sharpened, fury flashing for half a heartbeat before he buried it.
"And step three," the Inquisitor said, almost kindly, "seal her obedience with a vow she cannot undo."
My skin went cold.
A vow.
Blood contracts. Holy tethers. Marriage vows.
He was layering chains on chains until there was no air left.
Kael's voice stayed even. "Understood."
I stared at him, horrified.
Kael's eyes met mine.
He didn't reassure me.
He didn't apologize.
He simply mouthed, silently: *Trust me.*
My throat tightened.
"Begin," the Inquisitor said softly.
The crystal eye above the chair brightened, focused.
Kael turned toward me.
His expression was a mask again—cold, dangerous, perfect for an audience.
He grabbed my chin and forced my face up.
Pain lanced through my shoulder wound with the movement. I hissed.
Kael spoke loudly, cruelly, for the watcher.
"Beg," he said.
I stared at him, hatred and fear twisting together.
"Or what?" I spat.
Kael's fingers tightened, bruising.
He leaned closer, his voice dropping low enough that only I could hear beneath the cruelty.
"Or he squeezes," he whispered. "And your heart stops."
My breath shook.
My pride screamed.
But pride had killed me once already.
I forced the words out through clenched teeth, loud enough for the eye to hear.
"Please," I said, voice shaking with rage. "Please… show mercy."
The lie tasted like poison.
Kael's eyes didn't change, but something in his grip eased—just slightly.
The Inquisitor's voice purred through the stone. "Good. Continue."
Kael's hand slid down to my ring.
He wrapped his fingers around it.
My pulse spiked.
Not because of romance.
Because that ring was the only symbol between me and the world.
If I lost it, I lost Kael's protection in every witness's eyes.
Kael's gaze held mine. River-dark, hard.
His mouth barely moved. "I'll put it back."
Then, louder, he said, "Renounce it."
My throat burned. "No."
The Inquisitor's voice snapped softly. "Duke."
My heart clenched—warning.
I gasped, body jerking.
Kael's fingers tightened on the ring, twisting just enough to hurt. "Say it," he ordered, cold for the watcher.
"Fine," I choked out, voice shaking. "I renounce—"
Kael cut in, loud, sharp. "Louder."
I swallowed, trembling. "I renounce the Duke's—"
Kael yanked the ring off.
Cold air hit my finger like a missing limb.
The Inquisitor chuckled. "Excellent. Now—seal her."
Kael froze for half a heartbeat.
So did I.
Seal her.
My stomach turned as the meaning settled.
A vow she cannot undo.
Not just a confession.
Not just a renunciation.
A binding that would make me his permanently—legally, holy, ritually—so the Inquisitor could claim I was "purified" through obedience.
Kael's jaw tightened.
His gaze dropped to the breaker needle in his hidden hand.
Then he looked at me.
His voice came low, only for me, barely moving his lips.
"This is the only moment he'll watch instead of squeeze," Kael whispered. "If we shift the tether, it has to be now."
My heart hammered.
My chest burned.
My wound throbbed.
I stared at him, breathing shallowly. "How?"
Kael's eyes flicked up to the crystal eye.
Then back to me.
He spoke louder, cold, for the watcher. "Open your mouth."
My stomach dropped. "What?"
Kael's hand slid behind my head, gripping my hair.
My pulse spiked, violent and confused.
The Inquisitor's voice hummed with satisfaction. "Yes."
Kael leaned in.
Close enough that my breath hit his throat.
Close enough that the sunburst brand over my heart pulsed in answer, like it recognized proximity.
My lips parted—half in fear, half in instinct.
Kael's mouth brushed mine.
Not soft.
Not tender.
A cover.
A seal.
And beneath that cover, his other hand moved.
The breaker needle touched the edge of the sunburst over my heart.
My entire body went rigid.
Kael's lips pressed harder against mine, blocking any sound I might make.
The needle slid into the brand.
Fire tore through my chest.
My vision exploded white.
My body arched against the chain around my waist, a sound clawing at my throat.
Kael swallowed the sound with his mouth still on mine.
The crystal eye above us flared bright, drinking in the scene like it was exactly what it wanted.
The Inquisitor's voice drifted through the stone, pleased.
"Yes," he murmured. "Seal her."
The fire in my chest intensified.
The sunburst brand pulsed wildly, reacting to the needle like a wound being rewritten.
I felt something shift inside me—like a hook tearing free.
My heart stuttered.
Once.
Twice.
Then the pressure that wasn't mine slid outward.
Away.
Toward Kael.
His body jolted against mine.
His hand gripped my waist hard enough to bruise.
His mouth finally broke from mine, breath harsh, eyes blazing.
And in the same instant, the High Inquisitor's voice sharpened with sudden interest.
"Oh?" he murmured. "Duke Rivenhart… why did your heartbeat just change?"
My blood turned to ice.
Because I felt it too.
Not in my chest.
In Kael's.
Like my brand had reached into him and grabbed hold.
Kael's jaw clenched.
The Sunbrand on his throat flared.
And the purification cell door—sealed stone—began to unlock from the outside.
Slowly.
Deliberately.
As if someone decided to come see the result up close.