Page 363 of Commanding Scythe and Sky

No wonder these people cowered at his name.

No wonder they obeyed.

Moros had mastered the game centuries ago.

The image of Adrastos, bloodied and pleading with me for help, robbed the air from my lungs as I braced for the blow.

Blue, blue, blue. My mind was swallowed by the ice. Deeper, I retreated into its depths.

Distantly, I registered Moros giving a bored flick of his fingers⁠—

—and the world shattered.

SEVENTY-THREE

DISOBEDIENT PET

BLYTHE

A soundless scream shredded up my throat like a hot rake. My entire back burned, the agony stealing my breath.

Blinding.

The kind of pain that made you wish for death.

Certainly, the merciful option.

I’d barely sucked down a breath when the whip cracked again. This time, my scream could’ve shattered glass. It tore the skin from my throat. Back bowing. Lungs empty. Tears burning down my cheeks.

“That’s two,” Moros said, his tone bored. Body convulsing, I raised my head enough to see the satisfaction in his eyes, those thin lips set in a firm line.

I hadn’t even asked how many lashes were left. Hadn’t thought to. Was too stunned to wrap my head around my fate.

Crack.

I reached for the ice this time. But not even the glacier of solitude could hide me from the torment of the whip. Not even the blue could silence the agony savaging my throat.

Through blurred eyes, I found Smith in the crowd, his face wan. Nothing. He didn’t move. Couldn’t, I supposed, or he’d share my fate.

“Three,” the king drawled, amusement now thick in his horrible voice. “Still feeling self-righteous, witchling?” His cold laugh caressed the edges of my mind as the world came in and out of focus. Only the cold bite of iron around my wrists kept me vertical, spine creaking as I swayed.

As pain rendered me mute and blind, some cruel part of my mind reminded me I’d earned this.

A thousand times over, I deserved this agony.

Not for saving Fletcher, but for the pain I’d inflicted. The grief my folly had delivered instead of justice. The grief those Hadriana rebels burned for.

When the next crack knocked the air from my lungs and damp heat soaked my skin, I welcomed it.

Because I’d broken my vows.

The promises I kept most holy.

Tossed aside like trash.

I was no healer.

My actions tarnished the trust Nathara bestowed on me.