He reached for the dagger and extended his forearm over the desk. With one strike, he drew the blade across his skin, opening a trail of red that spilled over the Stratagram. “Your turn.” He flipped the dagger in his hands, extending the handle to me. The blade smeared blood all over his fingers. “We should only need a little—” But I didn’t hesitate as I took the knife from him, and I didn’t break eye contact as I slashed it across my arm—not even as I struck too deep, splattering crimson across Nura’s white jacket, across the page, across that beautiful, expensive marble.
+1000 aura
