Page 462 of Commanding Scythe and Sky

Two exits.

One massive fucking storm.

One serpent bitch tearing through our forces beyond these quaking walls.

And two teams still inside a building collapsing into her blight.

“With me,” August decided. “Hit him with venom. Marcus, Alec, wake him, keep him contained.”

“And then what?” Alec ground out, about as happy with this plan as my brother.

“We use him as leverage.”

“If I’m reading this correctly—which I usually am—Adrastos being leverage ended the moment we severed his Bond to Moros.” Why was Cyrus’ brain so fucking hot? I loved an intelligent man with the balls to back it up.

“Then we’ll stick him in Reyna’s underground prison and break some information out of him but we’re out of fucking time.”

“Finally, something we can agree on,” came that distinct rumble of a voice. Softer now. Almost… dazed. I turned to glare down at the man at my feet, finding Adrastos upright, fingers pressed to his temples. “Unfortunately, it’s a one-time occurrence because that will not be happening.”

“The era of you calling the shots came to an end when your heart stopped.”

“On the contrary, I think it’s just beginning.” He lifted those dark eyes to my brother as he stiffly shifted onto his knees, like his joints needed greasing. Cyrus’ hand dropped onto his shoulder, Adrastos wincing as his practiced fingers sank into a nerve between muscles.

“We’re leaving,” August said as lightning flashed in his eyes, sparking through his veins. “And you’re not gonna put up a fight, or I will thoroughly enjoy sending you back where you belong.”

“I meant what I told your mate when we first met—in my grand plan, I would serve you. I suppose it’s better late than never. So, yes, Commander, we’re leaving,” Adrastos agreed, his jaw tight as he stared at his palms, settled in his lap. Something like astonishment lined his features as he stared at his hands like we’d swapped them for a new pair.

Finally, his eyes met mine. “But not without her.”

NINETY-FIVE

THE FOURTH

AUGUST

With team two on their way to Blythe—Adrastos ahead of them, to my eternal fucking displeasure—team one laid hands on me. Mine were firmly curled around Alvara’s limp body.

Kade approached as if he expected me to strike him dead on the spot—I supposed I’d promised as much. His eyes fell to my feet as he stretched out a hand.

“Kingsley, where’s our pack?”

“East side—woods—exfil.” Given the static of our comms, that was as good as we were getting. I nodded, adjusting Ally’s weight so that I could grab his hand.

Cool to the touch, like winter embodied. Like a corpse.

The king of the necromancers blew out a harsh breath, and then the world around us vanished, leaving in its place a realm nearly as monochromatic as the shadows. Where the Paladins and Mags existed in the gray, Kade’s world was darker, dripping in death and decay, cloaked in that faint, misty green.

All around us, shades hovered, their eyes fixed on the king—beast, human, soul alike—and glowing a staggering lime green. For a breath, hollow white eyes scanned over our group, before focusing on the woman in my arms, who barely avoided their spindled touch. The world collapsed. Like a black hole opening where Kade had been standing, the dungeons faded in a blur of color and sound, and then we were on the perimeter of the woods where they kissed the flats.

I went to yank my hand free, but Kade tightened his grip. Pain flickered in his eyes as he bit out, “I’m not him.”

I lifted my chin in acknowledgment, in thanks, as he scanned the woods, the wolves emerging, bloodied but whole. The energy around us crackled with electricity far beyond the rumbling storm. Kade’s throat worked as he eyed Kingsley, the alpha, stalking to my side in his massive shifted form.

“I can see you’re in good paws from here,” Kade said dryly, but my gaze shifted just beyond him. To the warriors emerging from the chaos below. The white-haired witch bringing up the rear, her bare feet leaving ash in her wake.

I looked at Alvara in my arms—the swollen bruising marring her face—and set my jaw as thunder rolled.

“I tried to tell my brothers you always were weak of stomach,” she snarled.