Pain seared through my hand and up my arm. I bit down on my lip and groaned. I jerked my hand out of his, and he let it go. Blood welled up to the surface and dripped down onto the throne.
“You’re only supposed to do a pr*ck on my finger, not flay open my hand!” I roared, and he smiled at me.
“You, old friend, need much more than a pr*ck.” He tapped his finger on the throne’s arm, and I glared at him. “Get up. Run.” Letho said in my mind. Everything in me wanted to follow his order.
Instead, I did what Argonathe wanted, and placed my hand palm side up on the throne’s arm. Running won’t solve my problems. Argonathe grinned and sliced his hand open.
Blood poured over my hand, sending searing pain through my veins. A scream tore from me before I could control it. Fire went through me, an
