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Sorin only smiled, taking even more time with the second wing.

When he was done, he let the gag of fire go out, and Mikale panted, tipping his head back against the wall.

“What now, Sorin?” Mikale rasped out. “You are just going to leave me down here to rot in pain?”

“Yes, but if you think we are done here, you never heard the rumors about why the Fire Court was the most feared,” Sorin answered, lowering into a crouch before him. Mikale turned his head to look at him at the same moment Sorin’s hand shot out, flaming fingers wrapping tightly around his throat and squeezing. “You touched her. You locked her up. You caged her. And then you trapped her in her head, in her dreams. You took and tortured andbrokewhat is mine, and I am going to burn away every part of you that touched her.”

Mikale’s eyes went wide, his feet beginning to scramble against the floor as he tried to push away from Sorin.

When Sorin began with the little finger on Mikale’s left hand, he didn’t bother with the gag of fire. He let him scream. He relished the sound of his agony with each finger he burned to nothing. Then came hands before he moved on to far more sensitive areas.

And when he was done, when every part of the male that had touched Scarlett was either charred flesh or burned away to nothing, he shoved a deathstone dagger into Mikale’s side to hold him in the space between life and death until he could come back and finish the job.

Chapter44

Talwyn

Talwyn sat atop a brown mare next to Azrael, who was on a slightly larger black horse. She wished she could be in the sky with Jetta and the other Witches who had all left the day prior, along with Sorin, Cyrus, and Cassius, but Thorne was nowhere near ready to fly.

She’d stayed with him in the stables for the first two nights. Last night, Az had insisted she sleep in an actual bed and get a decent night’s rest if she was planning to come with them to fight in the Earth Court.

The Witches were adept at healing all types of life it seemed, and the past centuries of tending to the griffins had made them experts on the beasts too. It had still taken three of them to get Thorne to a place of sure survival, and even then, once they got him moved down to the stables, one of them watched him for the next day to make sure that remained the case. Talwyn had paced in that stupid stable that smelled like shit and wet fur until Az had appeared with a stool and forced her to sit down so her still bleeding arm could be tended to.

She rotated her arm now as they sat waiting, Azrael glancing at her out of the corner of his eye.

“The Healers sent along some herbs and ointment for that,” he said.

“It is fine.”

“It is not, Talwyn. You need to—”

He stopped speaking abruptly, a muscle ticking in his jaw.

“Say it, Az,” she said sharply.

Azrael looked around before moving his horse off to one side, and she followed. When they were far enough from the others, he said, “You do not heal as quickly, Talwyn.”

She barked a humorless laugh. “I am very much aware of that fact, Prince.”

“Are you?” he countered. “Because I am not so sure you are.”

“What in the realm makes you say that?”

“Because if you truly understood that, I assume you would be smarter about your choices.”

She glared at him, waiting for him to go on, because she knew him well enough to know he had more to say on this subject.

“You are at every disadvantage now. It is stupid to not take every advantage offered to you now,” he continued. “The herbs will speed along your healing, while the ointment will make you more comfortable. I know you need to fight in the war, and you should. You are an asset with your sword and bow, but what happens when your arm is too stiff for you to lift that sword because you refused this?”

“I get it, Az,” she grumbled. “The lecture can stop.”

She reached down into a small saddle bag. She’d never needed to have one before. Always able to store items in a pocket realm. Azrael had needed to get all her things from there.

His hand clamped around her arm, causing her to lift her eyes back to his. He had moved his horse closer, their legs brushing against one another.

“You do not ‘get it,’ Talwyn,” he said, his voice low. “I need you to take every advantage offered to you so that we can delay the eventual release of your Staying as long as possible. That means taking godsdamn care of yourself.”

Oh.