His mind was elsewhere. Gold rings or not – the invitation was a trap. How hard was he obligated to fight for a cannibal priest of some means, planning to whisk him away to a disposal site? The betrayal would certainly feel less from someone he’d only known some scant weeks than an entire lifetime.

And what did Malachi think about Nettie? Probably not much, right?

Shit. He said her name out loud.

“Maybe she could use a fright,” Aslan mused, and then regretted it immediately.

“Come now,” he teased. “A brief fright is not comparable to scaring the lover off entirely.”

More like offing her, knowing Nisa.