Page 99 of Commanding Blood And Bonds

“Twin powers,” Ansel continued. “Usually with opposing aims. If Aren’s right, there’s another reader out there—or a mentalist⁠—”

“Who could extract everything from her if she were taken,” I finished, arms wrapping around myself, hand hovering near my mouth.

Ansel turned, leading us back out into the hall, chin gesturing toward the door we’d entered through. “Lana and I were already outsiders,” he said, voice careful now. “We volunteered to be Aren’s secret keepers.”

“But you’re his assassins. That makes you targets. Shouldn’t this have gone to someone less visible?”

The question rushed out of me like a waterfall. But his answer—his crooked smile, the flicker of pride in his eyes—nearly knocked me over.

Without breaking stride, he hooked his mouth open and back, revealing the edge of a molar that shimmered silver-blue.

“People underestimate healers,” he said with a shrug. “But who needs to raise a hand if you can carry a curse?”

He opened a door on the opposite side of the hallway. Fluorescents flicked on, revealing an enormous training ring. Racks of Grayshell uniforms lined one wall. Weapons filled three others.

“Like a cyanide pill.” My voice was hollow as the weight of it sank in. My soul parents had suicide pills. In their mouths.

Ansel ran a hand over one of the punching bags and turned to face me.

“You’re a secret keeper now, Freya. Grayshell lives in you.”

“Why?” My voice barely made it out.

“Because according to our second, none of Aren’s Seven have more than a fifty-fifty chance of surviving the first wave. Which means…we need fail-safes. This is one of them.”

My heart clawed toward my throat. Panic did a quadruple fucking backflip in my chest. I’d just found them—I couldn’t lose them again.

“You and Mom have to get through this.”

He gave a faint, tired smile. “We have no intention of leaving you, babygirl. This is just a precaution. The Deadly Seven’s version of writing a will.”

“Aren set this up?”

“He…advised. Said historically, they’ve been necessary.” Careful words for a strategic choice. Even if Ally saw that conversation, she wouldn’t go digging out of respect. Jesus, this was so fucked. “Your mother and I did the rest.”

“Who else hasn’t let Ally read them?”

The corner of his mouth twitched, and he turned toward the wall of firearms, golden light illuminating the display like an art exhibit instead of a weapon cache. “Bash. But we lost him last year. August killed that demon, at least, so there’s that small mercy. Eloise Westerlund. Their daughters. Your warden,” he added with a snort. Reyna. Of course she was a secret keeper. Christ, there was no title more fitting. “They had to be people⁠—”

“Ally didn’t interact with regularly,” I deduced, the implication sinking into my stomach like a stone. He nodded, pressing his thumb to a screen beside the wall. An interface lit up, and he tapped through a series of commands before gesturing me forward.

“But you gave her blood,” I said, breath catching. “On the killing field, you gave her your blood to read—so she’d know about me⁠—”

“Freya.” His voice was gentle as he caught my hands.

“Did you compromise this place? Does she know? What’s the point of secret bunkers if you gave it all up just so she could find me⁠—”

“Freya,” he said again, slower this time, squeezing my hands. “Ally’s gifts were compromised.”

“She still read you,” I insisted. His crooked smile made me question everything I thought I’d seen on that field.

“Give your old man a little credit,” he said with a low chuckle. “Back when Ally was human, her accidental readings were like highlight reels. You know what mortals think about when they’re dying? They replay their best moments. Their greatest regrets. Their sharpest memories. She read their final thoughts, babygirl. Only what they carried in that moment.”

My eyes flicked between his as the truth settled in.

“We tested the theory a couple times, over the centuries. When she was depleted. She didn’t know we were doing it, but she only ever saw what they saw. Ally knows what I chose for her to know. What she needed to know…to get you out of there.”

My lip wobbled. I stared at him—this warrior who’d built a life of sacrifice and silence. A man who had put oceans between himself and his only family to protect the rest of us. For centuries. How unspeakably lonely.