Page 74 of Commanding Blood And Bonds
“I am Alvara, of Grayshell. This is my mate, August.”
“Oh, I’m well acquainted with you both.” His serpent’s smile spread. “We had a rather inconvenient run-in with your masked cousin—two blades, big promises. I came to investigate if his stories held weight.”
Ally tilted her head. “What stories were those?”
“That the Seer of the North was bonded to the messiah of the damned.” A rueful smile curled his lips as he added, “A lightning wielder called August Porter. Honestly? Sounded like bullshit. No one’s seen lightning since the great King Calloway.”
He bent, lifting the woman’s scorched hand with two fingers—still wearing a tailored pinstriped suit. Emerald tie. Pocket square. Like a demon walked out of a boardroom.
“But this…” he said, letting her hand fall, “this is worth a conversation.”
“You know us,” Ally said flatly. “We still don’t know you.”
“Frustrating, little seer?” he said, eyes narrowing in amusement. “He couldn’t read me either, if it means anything, and the bastard is ancient.”
Ally didn’t blink.
“Well?” I pressed.
He sighed. “Kade. King of—”
“The Necromancers,” Ally cut in. “Yes. You certainly made an entrance.”
Kade shrugged. “Seemed prudent to expedite the slaughter so we could discuss bigger issues.”
Howls echoed from the treeline, and Kade flicked his eyes to the sound—then stepped forward, misting into shadow.
He reappeared right beside us. I didn’t move. Neither did Ally.
“You are just as magnificent of a specimen as he promised you would be. As are you.” Those nearly-turquoise eyes flicked between us. “While our cousin’s pitch was…compelling, I’m not eager to lay waste to this realm for his ambitions. This is my home. And as you are the weapon he most craves, I believe we could come to an understanding.”
“I’m not eager to ally with necromantic black magic,” Ally snapped.
“And that bias is what he’s counting on for your destruction, little seer.” When he reached toward his chest, our blades snapped up in unison.
He stilled. “Just grabbing my card,” he said mildly. “Don’t skewer me—I’m not into that kind of foreplay.”
Still holding position, he retrieved a sleek black business card and extended it between two fingers. Ally didn’t move, so I took it.
Kade’s smile widened. “Glad to see not all of Grayshell is allergic to diplomacy.”
I glanced at the card. Psychic Readings, embossed in emerald foil.
Kade caught my raised brow. “Even kings need day jobs. Burn it if you want to talk—or if you’re in a pinch. I’m usually quick to respond.”
Howls rose again. Footsteps thundered downslope. Kade’s expression finally faltered—shoulders tensing.
“With the utmost respect,” he said, nodding once, “I’ll take my leave.”
Then he vanished, just as dozens of wolves descended on our killing field. Their coats glimmering like silver silk. Eyes sharp. Massive. They fanned out across the blood-soaked snow, standing tall as men. Watching.
Waiting.
FIFTEEN
SOLSKIVALL
ALVARA
