Page 248 of Commanding Scythe and Sky

“This isn’t over,” I vowed, pointing two fingers from my eyes to Cora’s. Fletcher and the girls laughed. The little shit only stuck out her tongue and wrinkled her nose.

“Damn straight.”

“Cora!” I scoffed.

“What? You curse.”

“I’m an adult.”

“Debatable.”

I scoffed, mouth agape as I grabbed my medical bag from the counter beside her.

“What? Adults don’t have any fun. You’re still fun.”

Well. That, at least, was mildly reassuring. “I’ll have you know, I’ve survived more years of post-grad education than you’ve been alive.”

“Still a child in the scheme of things,” Fletcher muttered, but I didn’t miss the pink that bloomed beneath his cheeks. Miraculously, I contained my chuckle.

“Tomorrow. We finish this.”

Cora narrowed her hazel eyes. “Game on.”

Bartholomew stirred from the chair he’d been napping in, cracked his neck, and lumbered upright as we headed out. “You seemed to enjoy yourself,” he noted.

Snickering, I nodded. “Cute kids.”

“Fletch took a liking to you.”

“Smart kid,” I said with a smirk.

“He doesn’t do that much. Not since… well, it’s been a while.”

“Not since what?” I prodded, concern pinching my brow.

A door opened—and a hand clamped over my mouth. Eyes widening, I snapped my gaze to Barry as I screamed into the palm, then stopped when his eyes rounded and both hands lifted in supplication.

Then the scent hit me. Pine, bergamot, and midnight embers.

I panted out a steadying breath and went still while Barry slipped through the door, closing it behind him before snapping, “What the fuck, man?”

The hands released me. He was already answering when I whirled on him. “Nothing.”

My eyes narrowed. Adrastos’ expression did not look like nothing. The last time we spoke, the bastard had implied he’d stop messing with me unless my safety required it. Either that, or I’d drastically overestimated him and twisted his words to fit my preconceived version of Bellamy…

My gaze lifted past his shoulder… to the beautiful brunette staring sightlessly out the window.

Still gaunt, a little color had returned to Alvara’s cheeks with the increased rations of the last few days. Her slender hands moved on autopilot—knitting—as she swayed faintly in the rocking chair.

“I’ve been tasked with guarding… well, watching over our ward here in my siblings’ absence, and I thought perhaps the doctors missed something. Her behavior seems inconsistent with… my expectations of ascension. A second opinion, Dr. Briar?”

I blinked, breaths hot and fast in my chest as I searched his face for something—anything—that told me what the fuck this motherfucker actually meant. Why did he have to turn every sentence into a goddamn riddle?

I nodded, champing at the bit to get my hands on her. It felt suspiciously like a trap, but I’d damn us both if it meant I could rattle her out of… whatever this was.

I made a beeline for her, acutely aware of the wall of muscle at my back—Barry at the door, Adrastos between us.

Forcing myself not to rush, not to spook her, I eased into her line of sight and leaned against the window frame.