Page 16 of The First Scar
Then glass shattered to my left. Green fog erupted through the plaza—two phials, maybe three—and most of the crowd vanished behind it. A male ducked behind a column. Uncrowned symbol on his vest.
Rebels. Not my allies. But I'd take the cover.
The Crownforged's head turned toward the smoke. Half a second of broken focus. I shoved off him and dove into the mist.
The green fog swallowed me. I came out the other side behind the Enforcer line, boots sliding on wet stone. The Rhain family was still tied to the posts. The father's wrists were chafed from pulling.
I slid the extra knife from my sleeve and threw it low—it skidded across the cobblestones, hilt-first, into his bound hands.
His gaze met mine. I didn't need to say it.
Cut yourself out.
The father sawed at his bonds with desperate urgency. But the exchange gave away my position.
"Circle her—take the dual-marked alive!" an Enforcer captain barked.
I ran. Smoke and bodies and noise on every side. Three stars left my hand mid-stride. Two Enforcers guarding the Rhain family dropped, steel buried in the gaps of their pauldrons. They hit the ground cursing and clutching andout of the way.
A grey cloak stepped from the fog. He jerked his chin toward the alley and the Rhain father didn't need telling twice. Grabbed his son, grabbed his wife, and they were gone. Swallowed by the smoke and the dark. Faster than I'd managed. Cleaner than anything I'd pulled off today.
The Uncrowned rebel looked back at me. Two fingers flicked off his temple: part salute, part claim.
I didn't return it. Help was help. But nobody did anything for free in this city.
I turned to sprint—and the fog thinned. The smoke was clearing, the rebels' cover burning off faster than I'd counted on. The plaza opened up around me like a trap losing its teeth, and I was standing in the gap with nowhere to fold into. I cut left. A dead end—stacked crates and a bricked-up doorway. Cut right. Enforcers already filled the mouth of that alley. Behind me, boots on cobblestone. Steady. Unhurried. Gaining without rushing, like he'd known exactly where I'd end up before I did.
The wall hit my back. Cornered. Stupid. I'd bled too much focus toward the Rhain family and now I was paying for it. Stone behind me. Crownforged in front.
He moved. Rune-rope snapped around my wrist, coiled tight andyanked. I crashed into his chestplate. I twisted to break his grip, but he already had me pinned, my back against brick, his armored forearm across my collarbone.
Close. Close enough to see past the shadow of his helm. My eyes flicked to a red thread on his wrist that brushed my collarbone where his arm pinned me. It didn't belong on him. Too small. Too fragile and frayed. Such a small thing to notice while a male had your throat pinned under his arm.
His eyes were burning.
"Yield," he repeated, lower this time.
Both my Marks surged—Light and Shadow punching forward at once, a concussion of raw power with nowhere to go butinto him. Red light flared through his armor. The V-binding rune—the thing that kept every soldier obedient—screaming against my magic. The smell of burning flesh hit the air between us.
His jaw clenched. A muscle feathered under his eye.
He didn't pull back.
"That hurt?" I breathed.
"Yes." He didn't pull back. “Pain gives me clarity.”
We were close enough to share air. Close enough that I could smell steel and the electric charge of a thunderstorm breaking. A wildness that didn't belong on a male built to cage people like me.
His gaze dropped to my mouth and a wicked smile spread on his lips.
"You're coming with me, dual-marked."
"Just a command, then?" I smirked and pressed harder into him. "You'll have to work harder than that to keep me."
Another phial shattered—the rebels again, a second wave of green fog rolled through the plaza. His grip slipped for a breath and I ripped my wrist free of the rope.
He grabbed for me. Missed. And his eyes betrayed him—they flicked past my shoulder for a fraction of a second. Instinct, not choice. But I caught it.
