My head jerked up, and I could feel the anger that colored my dark eyes. "You marked me."

"Severine," Juhan repeated, his voice almost dropping to a low whine. "You were in pain."

He was reaching for me again, but I wasn't having it. Not now. I grabbed the door handle and jerked hard, not caring that I all but fell out of the car. My heels clattered against the cement as I stumbled to my feet, hurriedly backing away from the vehicle. "You fucking marked me, Juhan."

Inside the car, I saw him twist around to open the door on his side. He popped out of the vehicle, unfurling to his full height to look at me over the car's roof. "I didn't know how else to make the pain stop, Severine."

"It wasn't your job," I snapped back. "You're not my keeper, Juhan. For all I know— for all I know, this was the plan all along. Maybe the ring is all a trick, and you're really gaining new Catalysts by killing their current Wielders."

Juhan froze, eyes going wide as he stared at me. "…the ring? How do you know about the ring, Severine?"

A jagged laugh cracked out of me. "You're such a fucking mage, Juhan. Is that what you care about? You might call Brendan a bastard, but at least he asked me before he branded his mark on my body. You just took advantage of me when I was helpless and couldn't say no."

The look on his face, just then: I think he would have looked less stung if I had stormed up and slapped him straight across the face. Good. He deserved it.

Before he could formulate a reply, I turned and started walking away. I wasn't his keeper, either; let Juhan figure out how to get out of the city alive on his own. Or let him get caught. It was no longer my problem. The sooner I got back to the office, the better. If Juhan could override a mark, then Kasimir could as well, and I could get the damned Parkkonen wolf off my body.

Heavy footsteps thudded on the cement as Juhan chased after me. I waited until he was nearly upon me to pivot, shouting directly into his face. "Don't you fucking touch me!"

Juhan staggered back, snatching back his outstretched hand. "Severine—"

"I don't want your excuses, Juhan," I hissed, eyes narrowing. "Unless you can take this mark off of me, I don't want to hear it."

He seemed to collapse in on himself. "I can't. Only my father can remove the mark."

"How convenient," I muttered, rolling my eyes. One hand dropped onto my hip as I sneered. "So, is that the plot? Convince me to go back home with you with the promise of removing the mark, and then find some other excuse to keep me there? You put on such a pretty act, pretending to be horrified that Brendan might force a Catalyst into service, then use his tactics as an excuse to force your mark on me!" I paused, willing my voice back down to a more normal volume, though I didn't bother to tamper down the anger. "You claim you're better, yet you're worse than Brendan ever was."

If my earlier words had been a slap, these seemed a punch. Juhan stood stock still, staring at me with horrified eyes.

Then suddenly he was moving, both hands reaching up to yank at his collar. Metal clinked as he hauled a necklace up from beneath his shirt, roughly pulling it over his head. Juhan thrust his hand out, fist clenched around the golden chain.

From it dangled a heavy signet ring.

"Take it," he said. "Take the gods-damned ring. It's the most important thing I have to offer, and I don't know how else to prove to you that this isn't some mage's scheme."

I stared suspiciously at the ring, fury still seething just under my skin. "Why would I want that trinket?"

"It's the only one in existence," Juhan answered, still holding out the necklace. "Take it back to the office, and you'll return washed clean of any suspicion of being my accomplice. Or take it and run, and any mage you choose will eagerly welcome you into their ranks, regardless of any prior mark you might bear, just for the chance to possess it."

Cautiously, I reached for the ring. Juhan released his grip on the gold chain, and both ring and necklace fell heavy into my palm. The gesture blunted the sharpest edge of my anger, but didn't eliminate it entirely from my voice. "And you?"

That laugh sounded a bit broken around the edges. "My father will want to kill me for returning without it, but it won't be the first time I've disappointed him. I'll figure it out."

Juhan waited silently as I examined the ring. The flat top was engraved with a howling wolf, fangs bared; twisted trees cascaded down the sides, with the crescent moon and stars peeking through the leaves. The silvery metal stayed cool against my skin, not absorbing any of the warmth from my palm.

I remembered the touch of smooth, cool metal against my neck when Juhan had kissed me. How had that only been yesterday? So much had happened — but I still felt certain this was the same ring. The prize that Brendan had been so hungry to win. That even Kasimir seemed to covet.

My gaze lifted to Juhan's face as I slipped the necklace over my head, letting the ring slide under my shirt and nestle between my breasts. "You can tell you father he can get the ring back after he teaches you how to take this mark off my wrist."

He nodded, swallowing. "Okay. I will call him as soon as we're a safe distance from the city."

For a long moment I stood there, staring at him. Debating. I could leave now with the ring, and it seemed he was truly willing to let me keep it. Or I could stay, at least until he'd contacted his father and learned the secret to removing the mark.

I could be unmarked. Free, for the first time in six years. It was a strange idea.

Then it might not matter which mage took over the city — though I couldn't imagine it would be anyone other than Kasimir. Siobhan was powerful, but her idea of negotiating was punching things until they caved. The two mages below her, Balsara and Reinhart, had the diplomatic skills but lacked enough power to rule a city. Anyone beneath them wasn't even worth contemplating for the role.

Or maybe an outsider would come in. Brendan hadn't always led this city; he'd taken it from someone, once.

Regardless, if I was unmarked, I could negotiate new terms. Maybe insist that I would only submit to Kasimir as my Wielder.

And the desperate, distraught look on Juhan's face was starting to wear on me. I still didn't actually believe he'd killed Brendan or Odyssa, and my own sense of justice disliked the idea of an innocent man being put on trial and possibly executed for it. Even if that innocent man was Juhan. A bit of torture I might have been all right with, but death was taking it a little too far.

With a huff, I looked away, peering out at the perfect cornflower blue of the afternoon sky. If I could get Juhan out of the city come nightfall, by dawn I might have my freedom. Assuming he spoke true, and I could trust what he'd told me.

My gaze slid back to Juhan where he stood. "Summon me."

He gaped in response. "What?"

"You keep claiming you're better than Brendan was," I snapped, lifting my chin at a defiant angle. "So prove it. Summon me, and let me see what your mark does."

His mouth opened as if to protest, then closed without uttering a word. Juhan gave a heavy sigh, his eyes dropping to the ground to avoid mine.

But I felt it. A strange tingling at my wrist, as if something small and bug-like were crawling over it. Gooseflesh broke out over my forearm, but it didn't hurt. Not yet, at least. Brendan's mark hadn't hurt at its lower levels either.

"All the way, Juhan," I demanded.

"Severine…" My name was a defeated plea on his lips.

"Do it."

His hazel eyes glanced up, found my gaze, then dropped back down.

The tingling increased, became the fluttering of a thousand tiny wings against my skin. It was as if I had plunged my arm into a beehive, and the insects were creeping and skittering and winging their way over my limb — but nothing stung, nothing hurt. It was, however, creepy enough to send a shudder racing up my spine.

Then it abruptly stopped, and I couldn't help but rub my hand over my wrist to try to chase away the last phantom creatures. "That was… so gross." And effective, though I loathed to admit it. The skin-bug feeling was impossible to ignore, and equally impossible to mistake for anything else. It would absolutely get a Catalyst's attention without actually harming them.

So he'd at least been honest about that.

I crossed my arms below my chest as I glared at him. "If this is going to work, we need to set some ground rules."

I knew the look that flashed through his eyes: that of a drowning man being thrown a rope. The smallest sliver of hope, if only he could latch onto it. Juhan gave a quick nod. "Of course."

"First, you need to apologize."

"Severine, I am so sor—"

"Not now," I cut him off. "A proper apology, with some real thought behind it. And you have to promise not to do anything else to me without my clear permission."

Juhan nodded eagerly. "I swear it."

"Don't treat me like a child, either. I'm not an innocent, and you're not my protector."

Another rapid nod. "Agreed."

I let the tension in my shoulders drop by a small degree, giving a low sigh. "And I'm not spending the next several hours hiding in a mall parking ramp."

He licked his lips, then gave a third nod. "Just tell me where to go."