The bells began to ring at midnight.
They were not the gentle chimes of the chapel. These were harsh, jagged sounds, the iron clappers striking the bronze with the rhythm of a panic attack. The alarm for The Reaping.
Elena jolted awake, her heart already hammering against her ribs. Before she could even draw a breath, Caleb was moving. He was out of bed, pulling on his boots and grabbing a holster.
"We have to move," he said, his voice stripped of all seduction. It was the voice of a soldier.
"Where is Silas?" Elena asked, scrambling to find her shoes amidst the debris of the ruined room.
"Silas is everywhere," Caleb bit out. He checked the clip of his pistol and shoved it into his waistband. He threw a heavy knife into a sheath at his thigh. "Stay behind me. Do not speak. Do not stop
