Page 158 of Commanding Scythe and Sky

Inhuman, that strength. And why the hell did watching him fight like that send heat straight through my core? The delirium must’ve been catching up with me again.

Aren surged to his feet, panting and bleeding where the jaguar’s claws had shredded him. Somehow, he still found the energy to shoot me a look bordering on amused before cracking his neck. He turned as Jason charged—only for the cat to juke around him at the last second and lunge straight for me.

My shadows struck before my mind caught up with the death barreling toward me. One ribbon caught his neck. Three bound his paws. Somehow the bastard slipped the fourth, and I threw up my arms just in time to guard my face.

The impact sent me sprawling with a cry. Jason growled, the sound so guttural I felt it through the sand—then it cut off.

I whipped around, a scream tearing up my throat, and found the cat sprawled across the ground beneath a mammoth godsdamned brown bear.

Freya

134:11:35:01

It turned out that away from his father’s bullshit, Atreus Hawthorne was way too goddamn charming. Naturally, I trusted exactly none of what came out of his pretty fucking mouth once Carr and I got him alone in my office. Carr trusted him even less, despite Atreus assuring us he knew a powerful fate weaver—a nomad who’d settled with them years ago and become a brother.

Viktor had discovered the gift by accident during a particularly ugly pinch, manipulating the ropes of fate right in front of Atreus. He might not have attempted the Crucible, but he’d sworn fealty to Cadoc and Atreus all the same.

“Come to dinner with me tomorrow, and I’ll make the introductions,” he said with an amiable smile.

“Just like that?” I pressed, glancing at Carr. His sapphire eyes gave me absolutely nothing.

Internally, he bit out, I don’t like him.

Well, me either, but here we are. You have an alternative?

Carr stared me down for a long beat before saying, You’re taking an entire falconry with you.

Fine.

And I’m coming too.

Fine. Would I rather be bickering with Cyrus? Abso-fucking-lutely. Alas, I was a monster, not an asshole. Sitting beside my dejected mate while I negotiated a marriage alliance was not making the to-do list.

“We are to be allies, are we not?” Atreus pressed into my silence, amusement slanting lips so symmetrical they looked painted onto his too-pretty face.

“That’s yet to be seen.”

“Ouch,” he breathed, clutching his heart dramatically. “You wound me, Commander Porter⁠—”

“Freya,” I cut in. “Just, Freya.”

Carr’s irritation slammed down the line. He should address you as Your Majesty, if you ask me. Fucker is too liberal with your name as it is.

Well, nobody asked you, Balto.

Actually, you did.

Shh. Beside the point.

Why did the prince’s smile have to look so obnoxiously genuine? I was ninety percent sure he was watching Carr and me volley mind-to-mind. “Well, just Freya, I thought an alliance was how I earned the invitation to tonight’s meeting. Or was it simply because you’re desperate for conversation?” His eyes slid to Carrson. “It seems you’re lacking for it.”

I was. He didn’t need to know that. I locked my expression into a cold appraisal. “Carr and I both understand the value of discretion.”

“Fair enough.” That knowing smirk widened, like he was in on a joke no one had told me. “But seriously. Are we allies or not?”

“Negotiations will see to that.”

“My father will meet your demands,” he said simply.