Page 53 of Slayer

I don’t answer, but instead reach over and take the blood mark. Oddly enough, I feel no trace of magic binding me to it, nothing sinister lurking beneath its surface. My fingers hover for half a breath before closing around it. The wax is cold beneath my touch.

“It will pay more than every job you’ve ever taken,” he says. “Combined.”

“So you’ve said.” Annoyance laces my tone at his insistence. My eyes stay fixed on the seal as my thumb traces its edge. Silas had handed me the same blood mark the night my life split clean in two. Same crest, same wax and everything.

“Who wants this done?” I ask quietly. “You, or the king?” My gaze lifts to his, sharp and unwavering. “Because I don’t work for him. I’ve made that very clear.”

Archer shrugs, unbothered. “A job’s a job. And someone in your position isn’t in a place to turn it down. Word spreads fast.” He rises to his feet, walking backwards toward the door to keep his one good eye focused on me.

“Is that a threat, Captain Archer?” I ask, looking back down at the blood mark that feels like it’s burning my skin. Calling men by their titles always gives them the impression they have the upper hand.

He lets out a low laugh, dismissing what I’ve just asked. “I’ll return in two weeks to see if you’ve made progress. If you haven’t, I’ll hear about it.”

He pauses at the door.

“It’s the largest contract ever offered,” he adds. “Something only someone with your particular expertise could handle.” A smirk curves up the side of his mouth before he turns and exits the room.

I watch his every movement until the door closes behind him. The room feels cavernous now, empty and heavy, and I’m left standing with nothing but words on a piece of magic-bound paper.

Leaning over to open the side drawer, I retrieve a letter opener. The blade glints once before I press it to the wax and cut clean through. The parchment unfurls beneath my fingers. It isn’t the king’s handwriting. The strokes are sharper, more pirate-like and familiar in a way I don’t immediately understand.

The Cinder Prince is guilty of treason.

End his reign.

You know what must be done.

— A

“A” has to stand for Archer. He’s protecting someone, and I’d wager every piece of gold I own that it’s the king. The king wants his own son dead. I flip the parchment over.

Prince Roman.

I roll my eyes and slam the parchment onto the desk. The wood shudders beneath it. My head tilts back toward the ceiling as my eyes close. Before he saved my life, I would have taken the job and executed it with no hesitation.

Now, I know I can’t kill him. I owe him a life debt, and this is how I’ll repay it.

I push to my feet and stride to the door, already searching for Thalos in my mind. I’ll be gone for a week, maybe longer. I have business at the palace, yet again. Thank the gods I allowed myself rest when I did, because this will not be a short journey.

It will be my first time shifting into my raven form since slaying Silas. The first time since his blood soaked into my feathers.

It’s time to face the prince and tell him I no longer owe him a life debt.

Chapter twenty-one

Feathers & Bone

“Feeling like home yet?”

I lean against the doorframe of my old room. So many memories live here. I was lucky to be given the room with a window, fresh air, and an easy escape if I ever needed one.

“It’s barely been a week,” Zorren replies quickly, sitting at the small desk and scribbling something in his journal. He’s focused on whatever it is he’s writing down. I haven’t been able to see him much this week, so this was a much-needed check-in before I head back out to Coral Haven.

I step across the threshold for the first time since I was sixteen. The room is larger than most in the Academy. Under the window is a modest bed, the fireplace only a few feet away. A desk stands in the far corner beside the armoire. The room is lit by a single lantern hanging from the ceiling, though the natural light from the window is more than enough during the day.

In the Academy, every one of us is given our own set of keys, while the Academy’s master holds the master key to every door. No one breaks in. No one slits a slayer’s throat while they sleep.

My old room was always the risk, the window making it easier to enter unseen. So I had a lock installed for Zorren’s sake.