Chapter 32 Into the Serpent’s Mouth

The message sat between us like a living thing.

Bring the king’s anchor.

Not “come.”

Not “parley.”

Not even “surrender.”

Bring.

Like I was a package.

A prize.

A weapon they thought they could pry from his hands.

Malachi didn’t speak right away. The silence wasn’t calm—it was the stretched, elec...

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