Chapter 70

The cut Jool made in her chest stung, the flesh parting on the blade of his knife, bleeding freely. He quickly pressed the delicate cog to it.

She lay stiff as a board while he hovered over her, holding her hand, murmuring, "You'll be fine. You have to be. It promised."

What promised?

Onaria wasn't sure what to expect. He'd told her the metal gear needed to be touching her skin and required blood. What he didn't warn about was the pain. Much worse than the time she took that first too large dose of the powder.

She sucked in a breath and held it, mostly because all her muscles locked and wouldn't relax no matter what. The pain turned into a cold heat, an oxymoron, and yet she felt as if she burned because of an intense chill.

But it soon eased into euphoria as the dull ache that had become her constant companion eased. The tightness in her lungs dissipated. She took a deep breath, the first in a long time, without feeling needles stabbing inside.