Page 75 of Commanding Scythe and Sky

It lifted my own cheeks.

Even as I accepted them, however, I watched the light in his eyes dim.

Falter.

I averted my gaze from his reflection and focused on cutting his damned hair, shaping the lines along his jaw and neck as silence settled over us again.

Heavy with the burden of fleeting joy in a world so profoundly broken.

“So,” he repeated. “The Magic Bond. How open-ended was the bargain?”

I winced and gently ran the guard up his nape, partly to avoid meeting his gaze in the mirror.

“Open.”

“Mags.”

“I know. Don’t Mags me. He said the magic required balance—that my offering had to equate to the promise of not wielding the Blood Bond.”

“So…”

“A favor,” I supplied. “One favor of his choosing.”

“Goddammit.”

“Yeah.”

The hum of the clippers filled the room as his expression turned contemplative in the mirror. I worked my way around him, slowing when I reached his other side.

His intense gaze held mine as he raised his chin, allowing me to clean up his neck.

Anger simmered in the rich emerald of his irises.

Not directed at me.

“They’re gonna lock you down, Mags.”

“Probably.”

I switched off the clippers, ran my fingers through his newly cropped hair, and shook out the loose strands.

“You’ll be stuck here or in The Middle until we bring him down.”

“They’re welcome to try.”

“Mags, this isn’t a joke. I don’t blame you—I would’ve made the same choice in your position. But now that bastard can make you kneel.”

Defiance ignited beneath my breastbone.

“Only if he’s faster than I am.”

“He’s Ally’s inversion. I can tell you from experience that outmaneuvering a seer is no small task.”

“I will not cower like a cornered rodent.”

“None of us want to see you fall into their hands. We’ve already lost too many.”

“And I love you all for that. But this is on me.” My magic tugged me toward his shoulder blade, and I scowled at an ugly, hastily healed scar. “Let me clean it up. What did you do?” My fingers traced the livid purple line beneath his left scapula.