Page 431 of Commanding Scythe and Sky

A silence thick enough to sculpt settled between us as anticipation dragged our feet forward the next day.

Aren’s shoulders were tight as he took point ahead of us. He’d woken us long before sunrise, disassembled camp with a wave of his hand, and started across the flats without so much as a word.

I spent the morning following in his footsteps, spiraling into all the very legitimate reasons he had to never speak to me again before deciding it was all in my head. Not long after, Rika sidled up next to me, leaving Jason and Brody to their bickering at the rear of the group, then demanded, “What’s up with you and Aren?”

I shrugged, keeping my eyes on his back as he forged ahead. “I think he’s nervous about what we’re going to find inside that castle.”

“Kay. Nothing happened?”

Shaking my head, I said, “We kissed in the storm yesterday, but I don’t think I did anything to upset him.”

Rika glanced warily between us before observing, “He seems uncharacteristically solemn.”

“Like I said, I don’t know what to expect when we get there. Adrastos isn’t known for being merciful. If he gave Moros access… we could’ve been through all of this for nothing.”

“You think they permanently broke the connection… like in Bellpost?”

My stomach twisted. “I certainly hope not. Aren said they’d left their youngest warriors behind that day—that the castle had been full of healers and newborns and braids, almost defenseless.” The day he’d said it, my stomach had bottomed out entirely. We could very well be fighting our way toward the rotted remnants of a massacre.

“They only brought five hundred to the battle with Agamemnon,” she argued.

“The rest were already deployed.”

“Hence the covens finding August and Alec at battle sites.”

“Right,” I agreed. “They were doing their best to keep their ears to the ground and get there before it was over. But they’d always communicated through The Middle—why put stock in modern tech when Aren had always kept them all connected?”

“Crazy. I can’t fathom a hierarchy without tech.”

“Some of his souls have been stationed for centuries,” I pointed out. “Serving communities that needed more protection than most. They checked in mind-to-mind. Relied on that connection.”

“Still.” She shrugged. “Sometimes advancement really is a good thing.”

“And sometimes it’s a hindrance,” I said, suddenly feeling defensive over Grayshell’s dedication to tradition. “Besides, I don’t think Aren will make that choice twice.”

“For sure. Have you checked on him?”

“He doesn’t exactly seem… like he wants to be bothered.”

She snorted, side-eyeing me harshly. “You’re his mate, Mags. I don’t think it would be a bother. I think he’s got a lot going on in his head.”

“Clearly.”

“And you’re supposed to carry it together, remember?”

I spun the ring on my middle finger as I watched his muscles bunch with each step. Sucking down a steadying breath, I nodded. “I just… I feel like I’m kind of…”

“Tiptoeing?”

“Maybe a little.”

“If he was going to hold your mistakes against you, he would’ve from the beginning, Mags. The man is so far gone, even I can see that. He’s always quick to lift the rest of us up when we’re climbing uphill—literally this month—but I think he doesn’t know how to ask for the same thing when he’s the one on the bottom.”

I thought about that for a long moment, my heart sinking as I realized the two souls he’d felt free to turn to… had both sacrificed themselves for their family.

Ansel in protecting Freya and Cyrus.

Ally for the rest of us.