Page 277 of Commanding Blood And Bonds

She laughed. No humor. No warmth. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

“Try me.”

“You need to leave,” she said, turning her back again.

“Freya—”

“You’ve been a perfect gentleman. But you have to get out of here before Reyna or her flyers find you.”

She’d armed up for me, hadn’t she? Stood watch while I slept.

Didn’t matter. What mattered was the thin blade of dawn slicing through the sky.

Bellaton would be waking soon.

“You’re gonna train your magic with Reyna?”

“Started today.”

“Good. Not too much at once, okay?”

“I know my limits.”

“Not in this body, you don’t,” I argued. “Take it slow.”

“Careful, Cyrus. You sound like you care.”

Because I fucking did.

What else would’ve driven me to devour every scrap of lore about her kind? What else kept me digging through records trying to find anything about Lonan, tracing his links to the crown, trying to map every threat before it got near her?

But I didn’t say any of that.

Instead, I warned, “Your well might be infinite now—but your body isn’t. The vessel will burn out before the power does.”

“Great.” She jerked her chin toward the sun. “Now, move your ass.”

FIFTY-ONE

THE DEDICATION OF A QUEEN

CYRUS

The funny thing about a Commander’s compulsion was that as long as my intention was to comply, the magic would leave me alone.

I intended to report back to my mother whenever I returned from seeing Freya. Therefore, the command left me alone while I slept in her room, planning to ask questions. If I could sincerely twist my plan to fit the confines of her order—say, if going to The Rougarou made my mark more likely to talk—I could buy myself time. It only became a hindrance once I no longer intended to uphold it. Intricate magic. A colossal pain in my ass when I dragged my half-asleep carcass back to Luminark Manor and couldn’t go home. Home didn’t involve reporting the instant I had intel from Freya.

Gritting my teeth, I glowered up at the gothic mansion that held my nightmares in the palm of its spindled hand. My feet dragged forward against my will, and with a sigh, I marched in of my own volition. No point letting her magic haul me in like a prisoner when I could at least hold my head up.

She was…less than pleased to learn Freya had no intention of reporting in, but before she could fully explode, Gio—the Wing-Lieutenant—interrupted. Since we hadn’t replaced Nix as Captain, I was standing in for now. Given the political mess around Nix’s dismissal, the Council wanted to exploit the vacancy with their own candidates. I didn’t mind Gio, but I needed to consult Poe before anything moved. I couldn’t stop a formal challenge, but I could try to prevent unnecessary bloodshed.

Mother reluctantly dismissed me to keep the peace, and two hours of Council bullshit later, any fantasy of a nap was obliterated. When my shadows tugged me downstairs over a ‘disturbance,’ I braced to deal with her latest tantrum—and instead found myself facing hard brown eyes.

Lonan.

Unmasked.

My shields slammed into place so fast I wasn’t sure I’d ever peel them back. Fuck this motherfucker.