Page 469 of Commanding Scythe and Sky

“Hey, ice queen,” Lana muttered as I swore at the spellwork of this motherfucker’s shadows.

“Really fucking good to see you,” Blythe panted as I sliced through the binds with a yank on Cyrus’ magic.

Lana caught the little witch as she staggered off the wall, immediately scowling at the words carved into her skin.

Bastard’s whore.

Jealousy really was a beast to contend with, wasn’t it?

The sound of boots had me whirling. Lana threw a blade before I’d even drawn mine. The first guard staggered as her knife buried in his shoulder just as mine sank between another’s eyes; the second crumpled like a sack of grain.

“Nice,” Lana hissed, already whirling. But we weren’t the only ones the guards were closing in on. “Get to him.”

“On it,” I breathed, ducking low to take a man out at the knees before rolling to evade the blade of his brother.

I’ve got eyes on the serpent, August announced mind-to-mind.

Grinding my teeth in irritation, I snapped, A little fuckin’ preoccupied, and swore as a sword swung for my neck.

Bending backward, my feet nearly came out from under me before I rocked forward, slicing a dagger across his forearm. I drew the sword down my spine a beat before an oily slithering presence cut me off from my well.

Fucking reapers.

With guards this size and no element of surprise, distance was my best fucking friend.

A sentiment Lana clearly shared, now wielding hers.

Backs to each other, we sliced down one after another, moving in vicious synchronized motions. When the last guard finally fell, we turned to find two kings seething. Hatred was a tangible presence around them. Both bloody. But Adrastos was fighting one handed, his arm and legs ensconced in shadows. And I didn’t have a fucking scythe to harvest the magic containing him. An animal roar ripped from Adrastos as he blocked. Unable to parry, the blade met flesh, sending red blood splattering.

“Behind!” Blythe shouted.

The soft pad of boots had me whirling.

Guards. Dozens of them flooded in, encircling us.

My stomach fell as we backed toward Blythe in a desperate ploy to keep our blades between them and her. I didn’t have to have my mental connection to know Cyrus was freaking the fuck out and about to throw the plan out the goddamn window.

“Ideas?” I panted to Lana.

“Don’t die.”

“Very helpful.”

“Stick to the plan.”

“He won’t be ready yet and that’s a long goddamn fall.”

“Bell!” Blythe sobbed.

Undeterred, Lana bit out, “Cyrus is fast.”

“Faster than gravity into rocks?”

“Good point.”

“Well fought,” came a rasping English drawl, my eyes flicking between the closest guard and the brothers. Moros was shaking his head, a dangerous spark in his eyes as he held the tip of his sword to Adrastos’ goddamn throat where he strained against the shadow binds.

Not ideal.