Page 231 of Commanding Scythe and Sky

“And yet, here I sit,” Mags deadpanned.

“She did cross the desert alone, presumably to get to him,” Brody interjected, his gaze darting between the three of us.

“Please,” Lana scoffed, her lips curling into that eerie serpentine smile she got right before leaving on a mission to take someone out. “The witch only concerns herself with her own skin. No doubt she fled some new threat—came here to hide with us where her side piece can’t find her.” When Mags kept seething, Lana laughed—a cruel, mirthless thing—and shook her head. “What’d I tell you?”

I turned then, watching Mags. Determination held in her gaze even as she began to wring her fingers together.

Given the circumstances, that accusation landed. I caught her hand in mine, stilling it.

“You’re right,” I cut her off, holding Lana’s icy stare. “You’re right. She followed my order to the letter until Adrastos backed her in a corner⁠—”

“See? Once a coward, always a coward.”

“—and she sacrificed her freedom—her autonomy—to protect your sister.”

Lana flinched back like the words had been a blow, glaring between the two of us.

“Fae tried to jump back into the field within days of giving birth,” I said gently, telling Lana everything Mags had told me. She only huffed a livid breath, eyes still daggers for my mate. “Walk it off,” I ordered, squeezing Magnolia’s fingers between mine. Fuck, I’d said the same thing when she was walking away. When I was begging her not to. My calling knew exactly where to aim. “Now, Alana.”

Lana shot me a glare that was clearly meant to pierce holes through my chest. “Seriously? She pops up and bats her lashes, and you cave like a fucking lawn chair? Have you forgotten what she put you through?”

“Forgetting and forgiving are not the same thing. You’ll recognize that again in a few years.”

“I can’t say I’m inclined to do either. You deserved better. Still do.”

“I agree,” Mags said gently, nodding. Lana’s eyes only narrowed in accusation. “Believe me, I’ve replayed every minute of that night a million ways. You’re right. He does.”

“Oh, don’t pretend to self-chastise. You’re a terrible actress.”

“Look, I can’t make you believe me. Only you can decide what you deem adequate. But I’m telling you that you’re right. And I know it. I hurt the only man I have ever truly loved. The only soul to love me without wanting something from me—without expecting me to be something for him. And I didn’t know how to handle it. Somehow, I think you understand that better than most.”

“Don’t,” Lana snarled, rising with that eerie immortal grace of hers. Mags and I did the same as Lana pointed a livid finger at Magnolia’s chest. “Don’t you dare think being my Commander’s fuck buddy and bailing when it got scary gives you any right to speak to me about loving someone. You know nothing of that sacrifice.”

“Lana, I know you’re angry right now, but you will not speak to her that way,” I demanded. “You’re better than this. Like it or not, Magnolia is my mate. I never thought I’d have to explain the respect that entails to you, of all people.”

“How do I fix this?” Mags cut in. “How do I prove to you I mean what I say? I held him as my soul was torn from my body—felt the agony you must have felt when that bitch stole Ansel from us.”

“Don’t say his name,” Lana snapped, her pupils flaring wide as her hands sought blades she didn’t have on her.

Mags continued, undeterred. “I fought off death himself and then climbed into the After behind him—chased him down and didn’t let him go until we surfaced. So, tell me, Lana, what will it take to prove to you my intentions are true?”

Lana went still, only her chest heaving. “I trusted you,” she finally snapped. And there it was. “I trusted you with the man he loved most—the brother we fought beside for centuries—and you turned your back when it counted.”

“I know,” Mags breathed, nodding even as her lips wobbled. I squeezed her hand but didn’t pull her in. Left her on her own two feet as her throat worked. My eyes stayed on her when she turned to me. With a trembling chin and tears in her eyes, Mags whispered, “And to my dying breath, I will have to live with that regret.” A single tear glimmered down her cheek, and I moved before I knew what I was doing.

I brought my hands up to cup her face, wiping the tear away. Damn, I wanted to kiss her—not to claim her, not anymore, but to put her back together. To show her I saw her—the real her.

“And for that,” she said, a little stronger, at least up until her voice cracked. “I am unspeakably sorry.”

Silence settled like fog in a valley. Finally, Lana said, softer now, “He trusted you. And you walked away from us. There is no fixing that.”

We both knew she wasn’t talking about me. The way Magnolia’s face crumpled made that clear, even as she nodded and fought her tears. Hand in hand, we watched Lana walk away, still shaking her head, eyes on the ground.

Jason—in his sleek black jaguar form—jumped from the balustrade above us and finally broke the silence.

He dropped yet another journal—this one tattered—at our feet, then canted his head, staring in the direction Lana had disappeared.

Those cerulean eyes flashed back to us in clear accusation. I jerked my chin down the hall. The cat’s eyes narrowed.