EMBER’S POV

The scale wakes up between us. Cold light spreads across the black table like living ice, and I feel it reaching for me.

I suddenly think of the man I saw earlier on my tour. His eyes had clouded completely white, and a sick feeling drops into my stomach as I finally understand.

He had wagered his memories, and the house had collected.

A sharp, insistent prick drills into my head, hungry invisible fingers clawing into the deepest part of my mind, scraping the corners before they find a thread and pull brutally.

The tug forces a gasp out of me, and nausea rolls up right behind it....