Page 55 of Claimed In Darkness

I beat him to the response.

"If you want a body," I say, voice steady, sharp, unyielding, "then give me a fucking blade."

The chamber goes silent.

Zephiran head turns toward me, something unreadable flashing in his expression.

The councilman laughs. The sound is rich, delighted, like he has found a new game to play.

"How charming," he purrs. "You do not even ask who you are to kill?"

"Does it matter?" I say, lifting my chin.

The amusement deepens.

Then—a single flick of his wrist.

The doors to the chamber open once more.

A guard steps forward, dragging a bound figure into the room.

My stomach knots as I see the blindfolded face, the torn clothing, the trembling shoulders of the one they have chosen.

A human.

One of my own.

A test.

This is a trap.

The council wants to see what I will do.

Will I hesitate?

Will I refuse?

Will I prove them right?

I breathe in, trying to not let myself feel.

In order to survive, I need to throw morality out of the window.

This is about survival.

If there is one thing I have learned, it is this?—

Survival always has a price.

"Give me the knife," I say.

This time, it will be another’s life for my own.

20

ZEPHIRAN

There’s no hesitation in Naria’s movements.

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