Chapter 8

The world tears open with a scream. It isn’t human. It isn’t animal. It’s thousands of voices, a tidal howl rising from somewhere beneath the palace floor, rattling the bones of the Underworld. I jolt upright on the cold obsidian tiles where Lucian and I had been locked in that awful, burning tug-of-war with Sanctum. The air is still thick with his power, with the echo of Noah’s voice fading like a bad radio signal. My skin still smarts where sigils had flared, my black-rose mark pulsing...