Page 173 of Commanding Blood And Bonds

But then she woke up.

And those eyes—bottomless jade green with a ring of hazel—locked onto mine. Recognition. Promised retribution.

She tracked me with every movement…right until the world exploded.

Flash-bangs erupted. Lights burst. Steel clanged. Shouts filled the air. The warehouse spiraled into chaos.

Portia lunged for Cali and Jo, hauling my protesting sister out the back. Carr and Nix moved fast, shielding me and the girls.

But then—I heard it.

A scream. Not just sound, but a full-body rupture. It punched through my chest, lit every nerve on fire.

I spun around and found Freya on her knees, clutching her arms, chains broken above her.

“Fuck,” I breathed, just as she launched to her feet.

Eyes blazing, she sprinted for the door.

The two men fighting my coven moved as one—one scooping her into a fireman’s carry, both vanishing a second later. Right through the wards like a knife through damp tissue paper.

The guards bolted, but I barked, “Yield!”

They froze, skeptical, but I held firm.

“They were jumpers,” I said. “They’re gone. We need to get back to the Manor. Clean up after Reyna’s Flyers threw a tantrum on her behalf.”

It was weak. But maybe just enough to maintain the balance.

The next time I saw Freya Porter⁠—

I would owe her nothing.

THIRTY-FOUR

TESTING ME

ALVARA

‘The finale’ greeted us in the goddamn street. Cheeky fucking bastard.

He had to be close—so close—to project a full-scale illusion that moved furniture. That meant he could use telekinesis, which meant if we moved our asses and tracked him down, I had a shot at pulling him under the thrall of the Magic Bond we’d wagered.

Only, our sprint out of the restaurant ended as abruptly as a dive off a pier into shallow water.

“Get down,” I barked as we rounded the first corner.

To my eternal relief, August didn’t question me. Not anymore. Not when it really counted, at least. He dropped and rolled without hesitation as cursed bullets sheared stone from the wall. The silenced cracks sent pedestrians screaming, bolting down the street, but we were already moving—splitting to divide their targets.

We came face-to-face with two men of Renown.

Moving as one, August and I engaged them without a word, dropping both in seconds before backing together—me scouring the sky for that damn oversized shadow bird, him scanning the alley.

“Clear,” he breathed.

“Same,” I muttered, disappointment leaking into my tone.

“Where’d he go? Can you feel him?” August asked as I stripped the Renown’s weapons, dropping one glowing magazine, then another.