Words left me in a pitched pant. “What are you doing, Rorn?”

He gestured to the place setting beside his. “Waiting for my wife to join me so that we can make a united agreement on the threat that has stolen into our home.”

“He is no threat.”

The pursing of Rorn’s lips was followed by a sad smile. “Come here, Bloom.”

But I didn’t move.

Rorn looked to the corner of the room, where a wolf I hadn’t sensed upon my arrival came forward, a hammer in the guard’s hand. A nod from the king and the wolf unbound one of Scythe’s hands from the chair. He splayed it over the table, the chains around his wrists clanking.

My heart thundered. “Rorn…”

The wolf positioned a nail over Scythe’s forefinger and waited.

“Did he place that finger inside you?” Rorn asked, and too casually for me to believe he wasn’t a moment from snapping.

A screeching flooded my ears as my heart stopped.

The wolf with the nail poised waited. The others outside could no doubt hear, too.

My cheeks instantly caught fire. “Rorn, please.”

He nodded again. Scythe hissed through his teeth as the metal was smacked into his finger.

I screamed and ran to free him.

Rorn caught me at the waist and gritted into my hair, “You’ll find answering me is the best course of action, Astrantia.”

“Stop it.” I whirled and slapped at his chest, tears entering my eyes. “Please, this is fucking insanity.”

Rorn just watched my eyes fill, his expression void.

“I do hope you’ve got more nails,” Scythe said and drummed the fingers of his other hand over the table. “Every single one of these undeserving digits has had the pleasure of exploring my mate’s perfect cunt.”

Rorn’s veneer cracked, his jaw creaking.

The hammer rose, and I threw myself over Scythe. It met the wood behind my head, the guard cursing and looking at Rorn.

“Don’t do that again,” Scythe warned, his lips brushing my cheek when I righted myself in his lap.

“She won’t,” Rorn assured him.

He grabbed and set me upon the table mere inches from Scythe, who cursed and groaned when another nail was imbedded in his next finger. Blood soaked his hand, crawled in a small river beneath it to drip from the ruined table to the floor.

Rorn clasped my chin, forcing my eyes to his. “Kiss me.”

“What?” I almost shouted, for he couldn’t mean to torture Scythe by using me. “What is it you hope to achieve here, Rorn?” A tear fell down my cheek. He ducked, licking it before it reached my chin.

Scythe snarled.

His energy curled around us as he began to shift, but the iron chains and nails stopped him. He fell back into the chair, panting, smoky tendrils wafting from him as he tried to pull the nails free of his hand.