Page 202 of Commanding Scythe and Sky

His eyes flicked between mine. “You’re in a bind.”

“You could say that.” I tore off a piece of bread and handed it to him. A soft thud and clatter drew both our gazes to his hip, where a rough little dish skittered to a stop as though someone had dropped it there from nowhere.

Before our eyes, the dish filled with… oil. Gold and glistening. Herbs appeared overhead and drifted down like autumn leaves to settle across the surface.

Aren narrowed his eyes over an amused smirk, lifted the dish, and inhaled deeply before setting it between us.

“Thank you,” he said aloud before dipping his bread, apparently perfectly comfortable accepting offerings from the enemy’s mother-realm. The castle kept feeding us with almost urgent enthusiasm—as if she were… lonely.

I tore off another piece, dragged it through the oil, and popped it into my mouth. A moan nearly escaped me when the flavors hit my tongue.

Amused by my reaction, he cut straight through the bullshit. “So. What do you need?”

I told him everything—the skirmish, Adrastos pinning Fae to his chest, him roaring my name over the chaos and begging for help. The Bonds. “I needed to disappear, and Reyna was going to lock me in the infirmary until they brought him down. I didn’t see another option, but now I can’t seem to trust my own judgment.”

“You’re young,” he said simply, dragging another piece of bread through the oil. When I took the last roll, the basket replenished itself. Gods, I loved magic. Aren barely blinked. “Learning what to do with your autonomy is part of the process.”

“I’m thirty,” I said bitterly.

“First, you just made me feel ancient. Second, thank you.”

“Thank me? For what?”

“Saving Fae. Whether his plea was sincere or a trap, you acted to protect Aphaea. You put her safety ahead of your own freedom. I’m indebted to your courage.”

“Courage.” I scoffed. “Courage would’ve put him down for threatening her in the first place.”

“If there’d been a clean shot, August or Alec would’ve taken it.”

“Courageous or not, I am, as you said, in a bind.”

He nodded. “We’ll figure it out, Mags. Thank you for trusting me with it.” I nodded stiffly, but when I looked away, his rough finger hooked beneath my chin and drew me back. Resting his forehead against mine, he said, “I mean it.”

I breathed him in, cursing every day, every task, every trial that made this distance between us necessary.

“I have a gift for you,” he said, leaning back with a smile. “But first, we should share our spoils.” Aren scooped up the basket and dish, bowed his head, and murmured, “Thank you for your offerings,” before leading me from the room.

“You’re sure it’s safe?” I eyed the spring skeptically. It looked freaking perfect. My skin was coated in dirt and sweat, my clothes so stiff they could probably stand without me. The desert had been as close to hell as I ever intended to get.

Aren chuckled. “If it wasn’t, you’d already know.”

Smirking, I looked him over and realized he was, in fact, squeaky clean. “No wonder you smell so good.”

Aren shrugged, his dimples popping. “Somebody had to try it.”

I tested the edge of the pool with my toes. The water was a glassy, impossible blue, steam curling toward a wall of moss-rich forest while mist pooled low across the ground.

How he’d found the path winding between the towering trees beyond the far side of the castle, I had no idea.

The moment I stepped into the steaming water, a moan slipped free. My head fell back as heat stripped the grime from my legs.

Looking entirely too pleased with himself, Aren brushed his thumb over my cheek. “I’ll give you a minute. I won’t be far if you need me.”

“What?” I whirled when he stepped away and caught his arm.

“Enjoy yourself,” he breathed. He didn’t pull free. If anything, he turned into me, caught between two magnets pulling him in opposite directions. “Enjoy some privacy. If I were a betting man⁠—”

“Which you are.”