ALARIC
“That’s the only way out,” Manuel said, pacing back and forth in my room.
I stared at the mark on my shoulder through the mirror before glancing down at my bare chest.
The memory of how the mark had gotten there flashed through my mind.
“It’s not,” I said as I walked toward the bed where I had tossed my shirt earlier. I picked it up and pulled it over my head.
“What? No. I might be wrong about the mark. Anyone can get it...” he tried to explain, but I glared at him.
His mouth shut instantly, and he lifted his hands in surrender.
I walked toward him with my jaw clenched tightly. “You know damn well not everyone has that kind of mark on them. The exact same mark as the Commune, the people who want nothing but my head.”
The expression on his face changed drastically.
“So you’r
