Page 428 of Commanding Scythe and Sky

I pressed the blade harder against his skin, his jaw tensing as it bit him. “You left a little girl to die after your men attacked my mother right in front of me.”

“I left a little girl where she was hidden.”

“You’re a monster.”

“Yes.” He tilted his chin, crimson pooling along the edge of the dagger. Adrenaline had me trembling so badly I was shocked I hadn’t killed him before I was ready. Because never again would I have this moment—this chance to demand answers.

“Why? Why did you kill her?”

“You know the answer to that.”

“They say she was strung to Reyna’s garden gate.” I cursed the tremor in my voice. Cursed the haunted shadows in his eyes.

“She was.”

“You’re sadistic.”

“Strategic, Blythe. I’ve never taken pleasure in the agony inflicted. When one considers motive, we must always begin with the outcome.”

“Semantics.” Betrayed by my anger, the knife bit into his skin, blood now welling at a concerning rate.

He just smiled. Tightened his hand on my hip, dragging me forward in… what, exactly? Challenge?

“Atta girl. You have to mean it.” Before I could register what was happening, his hand flew from my waist to my wrist, pressing firmer. Crimson pooled against engraved silver, a gasp tearing from my throat.

No. Not yet.

“Why?”

Silence. Another firm tug on my hips.

“Why save my life?”

“Then, or now?”

“Then—now—both.”

“Then, because you were an innocent. A child. Because Ahna possessed many reckless, wonderful traits, but cowardice was never an option. She died knowing she protected you—it would’ve been a shame if it was for naught.”

“And you expect me to believe what?” I snapped, my chest heaving, his eyes falling to my heart, where I swore he could see straight through me. See that frantic organ pounding in my chest. “You were just following orders?”

“Yes.”

“You don’t even seem sorry for it.”

“There are many things you do not know.”

“So, tell me.”

“I would that I could.”

Anger boiled, hot and acidic in my throat. How could he possibly be so calm? So fucking apathetic about snuffing out a light, robbing the world of the way she shined. “I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.” He shifted his hips, holding me in place as his erection thickened against my center. Like he knew my body was betraying me. Knew my core was molten at the heat of his proximity, my heart hammering, my soul screaming for something—anything beyond this agony, the burn of betrayal.

Lip curling, I slid the blade sideways—too shallow to kill him, but enough to split the skin. He hissed, his smirk deepening. “Come on, Princess,”—he tightened his grip on my wrist, his eyes scouring my face, tracking my lips as they fell open. “I deserve worse.”

“Why? Why save me? From the Renown, from your brother?”