Page 130 of Commanding Scythe and Sky

But it was the blonde from before to voice what we were all clearly thinking. “So why in the seven levels of hell is she here?”

The betrayer held my gaze, refusing to dignify her with so much as a glance. He took one long breath, seeming to weigh his answer before saying, “Because there are few souls I would trust with a delicate matter of a feminine nature and expect the knowledge to stay between us. Fewer healers still. Dr. Briar is one of them.”

“But she saved the king,” the bestower of grapes said, a slight shake to her voice. Fear—that was fear lacing the air between us.

“She did,” Adrastos agreed, those heavy chocolate eyes still unwavering.

“And she restores the captive,” the second blonde protested, as though healing someone made me less trustworthy.

“As I said. There aren’t many healers I would trust with something this delicate.”

Nat always told me my curiosity would get me killed someday, and as I fought back the words trying to pry up my throat, I decided perhaps she was right. I would not ask what they needed. I would not ask, even as the compulsion to understand tried to climb up my chest one rib at a time, like rungs on a ladder.

Something silver glimmered at the edge of my vision. I blinked the ropes away, refusing to indulge my nosiness and look.

“Get yourself a different healer.” I turned, fully intending to shove past Barry⁠—

“Wait!” The collar snapped taut, jerking my head back and punching the breath from my lungs. I collapsed into a hard chest. Bartholomew misted into darkness and vanished—apparently I was on my own—and a warm, damp hand closed around my jaw.

My heart galloped against my ribs as I jerked my gaze to the mirror. Adrastos stood behind me, clothed in billowing shadows, his eyes waiting in the glass while one hand forced my chin up.

I’d fantasized about this once. Before he struck his deal with Mags, I’d imagined the hard lines of him pressed against me. But reality looked nothing like that lust-hazed stupor.

Horror roiled in my stomach as his hips pressed against my back, his breath hot over my ear as he whispered, “Look at me, Blythe. Please.”

My ribs clenched hard enough to threaten my lungs as my mind snagged on one word: my name.

Nobody had spoken my first name in months.

Sunspot, witch or witchling, pet, occasionally Briar, but never Blythe.

Carefully, his shadows released me. His hand didn’t. Instead, he guided me around until we stood chest to heaving chest.

If it were anyone else, the pain in his eyes would’ve buckled my knees.

If it were anyone else, the pinch between his brows would’ve looked like pleading.

But this man had tricked us. Lied. Betrayed us. Everything I thought I knew had been a perfectly curated performance meant to lure out our love, our trust, our gratitude.

And I would not fall for it again.

I blinked, my breath turning ragged as he held me there like he could stare straight into the depths of my soul.

“My friend is in trouble, and you are an honor-sworn healer,” he breathed. My eyes dropped to his full lips before darting back up to his haunted gaze. Into my mind, he added, Either come to heel or I will bring you to heel, as Magnolia so magnanimously attempted to do to me. His throat bobbed, my eyes flicking to the lift and fall of his Adam’s apple beneath his stubble.

She would never, I balked, horror pouring glacial water down my spine.

The witch always did let her fear run the show, did she not? One well-placed threat, and she broke her word like it was made of glass.

Tears pricked in my eyes as I realized what he was insinuating. Mags. My Magnolia had invoked her Blood Bond to save someone—to curb a threat—which meant…

I scoured those dark eyes for anything—anything remaining of the friend I thought I’d known, surprised to find pain hidden beneath the surface. I shook my head.

A lie.

All of it was a lie. This monster had her exactly where he wanted her. Indebted to him. Magically bound to one godsdamned favor of his choosing.

Clearly reading my conclusion, the corner of his mouth tipped up. Now, are you going to play your role here, pet, or do I need to call in my side of the bargain?