Page 68 of Commanding Scythe and Sky

“Big baby,” I muttered, allowing a smirk to tug at my lips.

His gaze dropped to the movement.

“No wonder my brother took his time with you,” he murmured.

When his eyes slid closed, mine wandered over his shoulder to the betrayer.

Took his time with me…?

What the hell did that mean?

Adrastos’ dark brown eyes locked onto mine and held, heavy with unspoken things—a warning wrapped in chocolate and ire.

What exactly did Moros know about his brother’s time in Santa Bloom?

“Uh, witchling?” Barry’s voice snapped my focus toward him. “This nick burns like a motherfucker.”

“Nick?” I hissed.

He opened his palm, revealing a shallow slice across it. The edges of the wound were tinged an unnatural blue.

My scowl shifted from Bartholomew to Moros and back again before the king muttered, “Pennies.”

“What?” I barked, looking back at him as my magic surged through his blood in pursuit of that stinging sensation.

“I taste pennies.” His eyes widened as they found my face, recognition striking us simultaneously. “He poisoned his arrows.”

There was almost—almost—admiration in his voice. As if such ruthlessness deserved applause.

I dipped one finger into the rivulets of his blood and drew a binding rune across his chest while my mind tore through the possibilities.

Clever, August.

So why was this son of a bitch fated to survive?

My magic nearly seized when I measured the poison’s incremental progress toward his heart.

Only…

The bastard had a lifeline.

This was going to work.

Somehow.

I rotated his arm, ignoring his snarl of pain as I examined the darkening skin around the wounds.

“Wolfsbane,” I breathed when my magic tangled with the toxin. “Get him onto the table. Left side down,” I ordered Adrastos.

“Now,” Moros growled when they hesitated, wide-eyed.

I got the impression the king of Bellpost didn’t often allow anyone to get him anywhere.

Both men rushed to comply, heaving his uninjured arm over Bartholomew’s shoulder and hauling him onto the table. He hissed as they laid him down.

Marlana rushed around the corner just as I pulled the blade from the captain’s sheath.

My gaze locked with hers. Fear made her look so much like Adrastos that I blinked before my mouth caught up with my mind.