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Chapter 112

last update publish date: 2026-08-31 06:32:25

Nixon’s POV

"You feel like lead."

My forearm burns under her weight. I slam my palm back against the stone column to lock us both in place. Scout sags. Her heels drag across the floor tiles, making a raw, scraping sound in the empty hall.

"I feel drained," she whispers.

Her breath hits my collarbone. It is hot and dry. Her eyes roll back a fraction, showing the whites, wet and unfocused under the heavy velvet curtains of her lashes.

"The marking does that," I say. I rip my hand from the pillar
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