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“Yes. It wasn’t until that day by the lake that I realized the man you were traveling withwasthe dark god. But Vicana wanted you, and I couldn’t risk Bridin growing suspicious.” He frowns at me. “I really wish you had killed the witch.”

“It’s taking everything in me not to killyouright now.”

A cold, dark presence spills across the clearing and goosebumps form across my skin.

“No need, sweetheart. I’ll do it for you.” Calysian’s voice is low, filled with the promise of endless pain.

“Wait!” Kyldare takes a step back, and the terror in his eyes is delicious. “You don’t want to kill me.”

Calysian rakes his eyes over me, his gaze lingering at my throat. He prowls toward Kyldare. “Oh, yes I do.”

“You’re about to walk into a trap!” Kyldare’s eyes widen as Calysian doesn’t slow his pace.

With a sigh, I step between them. Calysian reaches out, hands clasping my upper arms, and I know he’s about to move me aside. Something inhuman stares out at me from behind his eyes, and my throat tightens.

“Wait.”

His gaze shifts behind me, and I reach out, burying my fingers in his shirt. “Believe me, I don’t want to protect him. But we need to consider all our options.”

“I see two options. Personally, I’d like to beat him to death, but I know you’re partial to fire.” Calysian’s voice is flat, but the strange otherworldly light is draining from his eyes.

Slowly, he releases my arms, taking a step back. But his struggle for self-control is evident, and he keeps his gaze carefully away from Kyldare as he stalks to his saddlebag—as if even looking at Kyldare would be enough to make him rip out his throat.

Kyldare releases a long, shuddering breath behind me. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me. Tell us what you know. Now.”

“First, you have to agree not to kill me.”

“We don’t need any information from him,” Calysian says as he approaches, the heavy chains from my tower in his hand. “Now that we know there’s a trap waiting for us, we know to be even more careful. Hold out your arms.”

Kyldare bares his teeth, his ward jumping into place. “You’re not chaining me.”

Calysian shrugs. “I chain you, or you die.”

“You only have one grimoire. I can still kill you.” Kyldare meets my eyes. “And I can killyou.”

Calysian steps in front of me. “Don’t talk to her. Don’t even look at her.”

Perhaps it’s because I’m still rattled from Kyldare’s surprise appearance—and my own vulnerability when he had his arm around my throat—but something about Calysian’s overprotectiveness makes warmth spread through my chest.

Thick, black fog begins to spread through the clearing. My heart races, and Kyldare jolts backward. “What are you doing?”

I shift so I can see Calysian. He’s using the little remaining power he has left after the quake today. And it’s enough to make the blood drain from Kyldare’s face.

“What’s wrong, Kyldare?” I muse. “Not so brave without a regiment standing in front of you?”

Calysian drops the chains at Kyldare’s feet. “Do it. Now.”

Kyldare’s eyes dart between us, and a dark, vicious satisfaction spreads through me. Whatever he was anticipating when he came here, it wasn’t this. He has always pretended to be braver than he is. But right now he’s not standing behind a regiment. He’s not standing next to a powerful witch.

“I do this, and you’ll listen to me?”

“Yes,” I say, mostly because I want to watch Kyldare snap those manacles around his wrists. I want to see the horror in his eyes as he loses even the barest whisper of his power.

He takes a long time to think it through. Calysian merely waits him out. Finally, Kyldare complies, the heavy chain dangling between his hands. His limbs begin to tremble.

“Not particularly enjoyable, is it?” I smirk.