Page 402 of Commanding Blood And Bonds

And I relished it. Come get me, motherfuckers.

As if summoned, a dozen wolves prowled toward me, but it was the two figures behind them that made my stomach twist.

My flames nearly gone, I laced what little remained into my blade and offered a grin that would’ve made Aren proud. Even as he beheaded two more demons, I felt his approval down the bond a heartbeat before he appeared at my side.

Marlana stood poised on a rooftop, her gaze locked sharp as flint. Beside her, Moros looked every bit the predator he was—eager, unblinking, smiling for blood. If they were looking for trouble, they’d found it.

Her blight didn’t scare me. August’s magic burned in my blood. Not even Moros’ reaper gifts could cut through the wall of protection my mate had left in me.

But then⁠—

A ripple of dread coiled in my gut.

Because neither of them was looking at me.

Aren

Ally was a blur of flame and steel, and pride burned in my chest as she poured herself again and again between me and the threat. Between her and the Paladins, the twins were fully occupied, her hold on August’s shield keeping a barrier between us and Marlana’s venomous assaults.

I spared a glance sideways, surveying the field as exhaustion dragged at my muscles. My limbs trembled. August stood guard over the healers. Panic bloomed sharp and fast as I scanned their line—once, twice, three times—without spotting her. No flash of slick black hair. No spark of aquamarine eyes.

Fuck.

But then Magnolia emerged from the wreckage, hauling a limp body—one of Reyna’s men—his arms slung over hers. She laid him in front of Nathara, then vanished into the chaos again.

Dear God. She was diving into the fight to pull out the wounded.

I made to move toward her when pain lanced through my torso, the force of the attack driving me forward. Agony tore down my side, and I doubled over, clutching my now-bleeding abdomen. Hot liquid gushed between my fingers.

With a roar of defiance, I forced myself upright, blade raised in a shaking hand as the wolf settled in front of me, its maw slick with blood.

“You just bit me, motherfucker.”

It growled in response, circling. Then it lunged—and I twisted, bringing my blade up and through. The wolf hit the ground in two twitching pieces.

“Aren!” Ally’s voice snapped my attention sideways—just in time to block a descending Renown blade. Steel shrieked as I came face to face with Moros.

“One by one, we will pluck them all from your grasp,” he sneered.

Even as my magic faltered beneath his, I struck. He met every blow with cruel efficiency, but I could feel it—his exhaustion. The reaper gifts were waning.

“You’ll watch your pets kneel before me from hell itself,” he promised.

“As long as the seats are decent,” I growled. God, what was it with villains and their monologues?

We traded strike for strike. I didn’t need magic to make this bastard bleed. My next blow grazed his shoulder, splitting black ichor down his arm. He hissed, stumbling back.

Then I felt it—oily, invasive. The demon blade’s poison crawling beneath my skin.

Marlana moved in, launching her plague. I flung out a shield with my free hand, forming a barrier just as the disease scorched the sidewalk beside us, rotting stone to ash. The distraction cost me—Moros nearly took my head off.

My periphery caught Alvara, surrounded and outnumbered.

Time was running out.

I surged forward, shoving past the rot creeping up the city walls, the buildings around us crumbling into dark ash. Marlana’s blight thickened, coiling around my shield. Black veins etched across the dome as my duel with Moros raged on.

Screams split the air, the ground trembling.