Page 446 of Commanding Scythe and Sky

“You’re cute when you’re jealous.”

“I’m no mathematician, but seeing as they were hanging off you in summer camp, that leaves us—” My words were cut off by a peal of laughter as he shifted through the shadows so suddenly my heart lurched from my chest. His lips came down on mine as calloused fingers dug into my hips, my ass.

“They meant nothing,” he rumbled, grinding his dick over my clit through his sweats.

“You—” a gentle kiss to the corner of my mouth, “—are—” a peck just below my eye, “—everything.” Those talented hands scraped up my torso until he could give my nipple a hard tweak. A growl lodged in his throat, and then he was dipping low, sucking the opposite breast into his mouth.

Had I been baiting him? Abso-fucking-lutely. Should that be below me? Probably. Did I regret it? No. No, I did not. Especially not as his other hand slipped down to my swollen, needy clit and he sucked that nipple hard enough to ache.

I loved that Cyrus wasn’t gentle with me. Didn’t treat me like some delicate flower—he fucked me like a man undone, and I was living for it.

A knock at the door had me scowling, but Cyrus didn’t so much as slow. His tongue swirled over my nipple as his shadows covered my mouth to keep me from responding. Those deft fingers dipped lower⁠—

“Commander!” Orion’s resonant voice boomed through the door, and my head fell back on the floor as the shadows released me. Biting into my bottom lip, I took a deep, steadying breath through my nose. “I’m sorry to interrupt but⁠—”

“This can wait unless someone is fucking dying,” Cyrus growled into my neck.

“I think I can satisfy that condition,” came a low purr that snaked over my skin and had Cyrus popping upright like an overgrown meerkat, his eyes wide.

“Vesper?” he barked, scowling and shifting upright, hauling me after him. Relief rushed down the bond, filling my veins in turn.

“Where the fuck is Carrson?” our spy demanded impatiently.

“Clothes,” Cy muttered, pressing a kiss to my cheek. I was about to protest, but he smacked my ass and headed for the door. Rolling my eyes, I dragged my feet toward the ensuite to get dressed. I shifted into shadow long enough to clothe myself before joining Cyrus as he opened the door.

I could tell by the stone set to Orion’s eyes—and Vesper’s even more ashen pallor—that this was not just a report.

“What?” I demanded as Cyrus motioned for them to lead the way.

“You have a location,” Cyrus announced as we matched their hurried pace.

“And a bare-bones idea of a layout,” she said hoarsely, like the time spent away had thrown her vocal cords into disuse. “I was working on detailed schematics to expedite the extraction.”

“There’s more.”

Vesper dipped her chin as thunder rolled. “Oh shit,” Cyrus muttered, vanishing and reappearing in armor beside me.

“This morning, they erected a magical arena from the depths of the cliff. I was going to report back, I swear. But I was trying to gather as much intel as I could so our strike could be driven by actual data⁠—”

“Rip off the bandage.”

“—and snuck in to see what they were doing. Fighting. Like gladiators. Unsanctioned duels—I suspect to coerce prisoners into passing the crucible so that Moros can⁠—”

“Control them,” I finished just as Carrson’s door opened ahead of us and he came stumbling out, still yanking on a boot. Atreus was fastening his jacket as he followed.

Both men slowed as they spotted us—Carr’s eyes going wide before morphing into a scowl as he took in our faces. Atreus’ cheeks flushed scarlet. Any other fucking day, that would’ve been cute as shit. “I was just⁠—”

“He was just helping me,” Carr finished.

“With his prosthesis.” Atreus cleared his throat. “He was struggling with his swordplay today, so we made some adjustments.”

“Congratulations, but not the time.”

“I was looking for you,” Vesper snapped. A muscle in her jaw flexed, dark eyes flicking between me and Carrson, turning hard a beat before she averted them entirely. The slender column of her paper-white neck bobbed. “Alvara was one of the champions today. I didn’t have a way to get to her—the arena was saturated in daylight—and she was poised to win, but⁠—”

“Champions?” Carr bit out. “We found Alvara?”

His hope-filled words couldn’t register. Terror, glacial and searing, cut through my veins, silencing all else. August. If Ally was killed, August went with her. As if in answer, the sky bellowed, a downpour slamming into the windows so hard they rattled. The hair on my arms rose; fuck me, the hair on everything rose. This wasn’t just a southern storm. This static belonged to my brother.