Page 391 of Commanding Blood And Bonds

Her bravado was paper-thin. Sweat clung to her pale skin. Her mask was back in place, but it wasn’t fooling anyone. Determined? Yes. But she was scared. Drained. And I didn’t need to touch the Bond to know it.

She was done. But she wouldn’t admit it.

And I—I couldn’t stop staring at her.

She lied to me. Used me. Manipulated Cali and Carr too. Used my fury to get what she needed—to get her throne.

It wasn’t about Reagan. That monster deserved to die after chaining me up and letting Nix beat me half to death.

It was that I was the fool she used to do it.

And yet…

Even now, as she trembled from exhaustion, something primal inside me wanted to gut every creature that had put that fear on her face. With every surge of protective rage, I forgave my father a little more.

She was barely upright. Blood soaked her glove as she dragged her thumb across it, testing her strength like she could will herself to keep going.

“Your Majesty,” I murmured, arching a brow. “I believe this is where the witch faced the dragon.”

She shot me a venomous glare. “Cut the shit, Cyrus.”

“Just assessing the odds.”

“That’s my job,” Ally growled, planting her hands on her hips. “And Aren is sending reinforcements.”

I deadpanned. “Can he actually spare them?”

“That’s his call, Prince, not mine.”

“Did somebody say dragon hunting?” Alec’s voice broke through the haze as he emerged from the ash-drenched lot like it was just another goddamn Tuesday. He was streaked in blood, his quiver empty—explaining the casual way he bent down to yank arrows from corpses at our feet.

“I do believe we fight as a coven, or not at all,” he said. “That was the impression you gave Westerlund. This splitting up bullshit isn’t working.”

Ally gave a ragged laugh and collapsed into his arms for a moment, her posture relaxing against him.

The assassins came next, silent and sure-footed, appearing behind Alec with the same practiced ease.

I’d seen shit running ops for the Wings—but none of it compared to this. No nightmare had prepared me for this.

“Freya,” Alec hedged, “can you haul us through the shadows?”

I already knew the answer. The way her eyes dropped told me as much.

“No,” she murmured. “Not all of us. Not anymore.” She hesitated. “And Balorath’s still kicking.”

I nodded. “My shadows won’t go near this place. They know something’s wrong.”

“Our willingness won’t matter,” Ansel said as he approached, his tone grave. “There’s no border left to contain it. If that beast comes out to play, we need to be ready.” He pulled Freya close, and she leaned into him. “You alright, babygirl?”

“Better now,” she whispered, lifting her eyes to Alvara. “Let’s end this. Shut it off at the source. Or die trying.”

Ally’s jaw clenched. Her magic stirred.

“Move,” she ordered. And we did.

I fell into formation with the others, flanked by Grayshell’s elite. We moved like one creature.

The blown-out mall swallowed us whole. The blackness deepened.