Page 337 of Commanding Scythe and Sky

He lifted his shoulders, shaking his head as he looked from me to my mate.

“Decent,” I said when Freya just seemed to analyze his motives.

“And Atreus?”

Backstabbing son of a bitch.

“A work in progress,” Freya said flatly. “Much like his hairline, Cadoc likes to retreat at the first sign of trouble.”

“Then we need her,” August said without apology, even as Cali dropped back into her seat. “I won’t gamble on a coward’s leadership. Reyna’s a bitter pill, but she’s the best we have at getting in and retrieving a target. Once we have the location, she’s the key. I’ll be the bait. Draw them out. Hammer a hole through their defenses for you to exploit. Reyna gets in and gets the fuck out with Ally in tow. Can I trust her flyers to find Blythe?”

Freya stared her brother down so hard I half expected one of them to draw a weapon. At last, she sucked down a breath and shifted on her feet. “Reyna will help, but for a price. Her flyers have to consent to the mission—that’s a big part of how she operates. Those girls will go to the end of the earth for her, but for you… she won’t force it.”

“How do we persuade them?”

“Leave that to me.”

“Fine,” he said. “Grayshell on diversion. Bellaton on extraction. Paladins take point on infiltration and hostiles.”

“I have to win her over first,” Freya cautioned, but August only smiled—a little too knowingly.

“I appreciate your dedication, but I have to do that myself.”

“August—”

He shook his head. “Sending you would confirm everything she thinks about my ability to lead this front line.”

“Motherfucker,” Freya groaned. “I’m coming with you.”

“Fine.”

“Reinforcements?” I prodded.

“If they’re in Iceland, we won’t need numbers. Blunt force. Spearheaded attack. Reyna slips them out the back. They can’t conceal a host the size of Agamemnon’s without being noticed.” Something like excitement crackled through the room. For the first time in what felt like a lifetime, we had a direction. Hope. Then I eyed the black cane against the wall, and my throat tightened.

Kenna insisted it wasn’t my fault—that the fall alone was enough to inflict worse injuries than a broken back—but with Moros back in the field and The Great Commander sidelined, I couldn’t shake the feeling I’d somehow made it worse.

The Commander caught me staring and met my glare with one of his own. “Can you do this?” I asked.

“I don’t have a choice.”

“Bullshit. You’ve got four hierarchies at your command. Dozens more if you call on them.”

“I’m going.”

Freya grimaced. “August, your back⁠—”

“Will be fine,” he snapped. “I’ll pop one of those fucking oxy things Jo shoved into a potion.”

“Very healthy coping mechanism.”

“Like I give a fuck,” he growled. “This is Ally. I’m either coming out of there with my mate or not at all, and I don’t give a shit which. If she’s not retrievable, do us both a favor and put a bullet between my eyes.”

The room went deathly silent. Lana broke it with a muttered, “It would be a mercy.”

“Thank you, Alana.”

She widened her eyes, canting her head in reluctant acceptance.