Page 455 of Commanding Scythe and Sky

“You certainly make one hell of an entrance, Commander.”

Entrance. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

“Heard about the party,” he said dryly.

“Vesper pulled him out of the rubble of the West wing,” Cyrus said curtly. Which meant…

“Tell me you didn’t do this.”

“My only sin was being here when it began.”

“Being here?! Being here?”

“August, give me a—” he lifted his face to look at me, but my fist was already swinging. The impact sent his head snapping back.

“What the fuck are you doing here, Kade?”

“Fulfilling a bargain,” he gritted out as Cyrus straightened his head by his fucking scalp.

“Tell me you didn’t know.”

His jaw ticked. “I couldn’t verify she was here.”

“You knew—you fucking knew where they’ve been, where Moros has been.”

“I was trying to find her before I got your hopes up.”

“And your inside man? Your cousin, I assume? Reyna was fucking right,” I muttered turning as I palmed at my jaw. “I hate when assholes get to be right. What the fuck?” I demanded as I whirled. I lashed forward, grabbing him by the goddamn jugular and lifting him to his fucking feet. Sorrow. Guilt. Pity. It all flashed across his face as I yanked him into me. “How long?”

“She’s gone, brother,” he repeated.

“Shut the fuck up.” I tightened my fingers.

“They did it. They broke her.”

“Shut the fuck up,” I snarled, fighting my hold.

“I was called to attend a spectacle,” he rasped, hands flying to my wrist.

“You knew—this whole time, you knew where she was?”

“Only… a few… weeks,” he croaked, his feet scrambling. He didn’t fight. Didn’t summon the spirits that no doubt lurked in these walls, still in shock. Wasn’t sure if he could—couldn’t tell how long ago Cyrus had plunged that syringe into his neck. “Didn’t know… she was… here. They have the Crown. I had to see⁠—”

That did it. My crown. The one we’d planted for bait. He’d betrayed me for my own fucking lure. I head butted the fucker, dropped him. Glowered at him where he crumpled on the floor. “Now we’re even,” I decided. “If I see you again, you’re already dead.”

Kade spluttered on the blood now pissing from his nose, but managed to cough, “August! She’s in the tank. Moros put her in the tank—seawater. That’s how they broke her.”

The tank?

I didn’t ask. Didn’t have to, because Freya’s people were ahead of us, clearing a path through a convergence of guards. Guards no doubt stationed here for my wife. My twin flame.

Make them suffer, I ordered, lip curling when male screams filled the corridor.

“August,” Freya breathed beside me, glancing back to where we’d left Kade staggering to his feet.

“Don’t care for the tone,” I said.

“Don’t give a shit. Kade was looking for intel.”