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I stiffen at the names, something small and sharp piercing through the murk.

“And Kallias and Maxim?” I rasp, the sound of my own voice surprising even me.

“The Eagle only told me that he handed them over to the king.”

“Is that meant to make me feel better?”

Raven freezes.

“You could have stopped this,” I snap, my anger breaking free. “You. Whatever’s happening, whatever this…plan of his is—it’s on you too. You chose to get close to her. You chose to help him.”

His flinch isn’t anywhere near satisfying enough.

“You think I don’t know that? You think I don’t wake up every day and regret everything I did?”

I scoff. “Regret doesn’t change what you are; a blade in his hand, dressed as a man. A pretty shadow for him to wield.”

“I didn’t have a choice,” he says quietly.

“Everyone has a choice, Raven.”

His jaw tightens, the muscles in his face twitching. Pain flickers in his eyes—brief, fleeting—but enough to stall the words rising to my lips.

“Do you remember the bargain Aella made with Sphinx? Back in Eretria?” he asks.

I stay silent, but nod, and he exhales shakily.

“When I first met the Eagle, I was young,” he begins, his tone heavy with emotion. “Young and so full of rage, I thought it would devour me. My family—my entire family—had been murdered, slaughtered like animals.” His hands curl tighter around the bowl, knuckles whitening before he sets it aside. “And then he came. Lord Amon Malis. He promised me revenge, justice for the ones I lost. All he asked for in return was my loyalty.”

“Raven…”

A bitter smile twists his mouth. “I gave it to him without hesitation. Without understanding what I was truly agreeing to, or how binding bargain marks are.”

He stares down at his palm.

“What happens if you break one?” I ask.

“You die,” he answers flatly. “Not immediately, but much faster than a tycheroi should. From what I understand, the magic turns on you, and it eats away at your soul until there’s nothing left.” Raven scrubs a hand over his face. “Men like Malis don’t believe in loyalty. Not the kind that comes from respect. He thinks respect is a price you pay to keep someone long enough for them to sharpen the knife behind your back.” His mouth twists. “He needed something cleaner. Certain.”

“Because he couldn’t trust anyone.”

“Because he wouldn’t,” Raven corrects. “Which is why the first order he gave me was to obey him. Every word. There are loopholes—if the command isn’t specific enough—but they’re rare.”

My eyes widen. “In the alley…”

The memory of the night he caught me flashes through my mind. The weak flare of crimson light the instant he loosened his grip and the stricken, resigned look that followed.

“He told me that if I found you, I was not to let you go.” A crease furrows his brow. “If your friend hadn’t arrived, I would’ve taken you to him. Somehow facing personal harm breaks the hold. Short of that, it doesn’t let go.”

A chill runs down my spine. Even in his position at the head of the Aviary—or because of it—the Eagle couldn’t put his trust in another unless they were bound twice over. If I bend my imagination far enough, I can see the logic. It still turns my stomach.

“How does he sleep after everything he’s done?” I mutter.

“He sleeps fine.”

I don’t know what my face shows, but Raven looks away again.

“I can’t undo it,” he says, so low I almost don’t catch it. “Any of it. But I swear, Nyssa, I’ll make amends. Somehow. Even if it breaks me. Even if it—”