Page 203 of Commanding Blood And Bonds

“Get out!” The anger in my command wasn’t feigned.

I turned back to her as their feet shuffled away, accusation warring with the fucked-up chemical reaction her body had on mine.

“Sorry,” Carr muttered, and I heard him turn to leave.

And then my lips were jammed against hers, rough and bruising as I ground into her again. My calloused palms scraped along her ribs and squeezed her hip, dry humping her ass. When the latch clicked, I pulled our mouths apart, glancing over my shoulder. Chest heaving, I let her up, watching as she slowly righted herself.

“Fuck,” I muttered. “What’s wrong with you?” My eyes scraped over her skin again as she twisted back to face me.

“Bite me,” she growled, shoving me away with that disproportionate strength of hers.

I chuckled darkly, the corner of my lips quirking. “Careful what you ask for.” Lunging, I wrapped a palm around her jaw, crushing her cheeks. “You do realize how stupid that was, right? A lesser male would take advantage of what you just offered.”

“And I’d slit their throats before they tried,” she mumbled through squished lips.

Anger burned through me. Not just at the hell she’d put our hierarchy through in the last month, but at her recklessness. Her tiny frame might make her fast, but three-on-one were terrible fucking odds.

“Big bark for a little dog.”

“Big fight, too.”

“Of that I am well the fuck aware,” I snarled, phantom pain shooting through my Achilles. I shoved her face to the side before slipping off the bed and marching over to my pants. “What happened to a truce?”

“The truce is for you. My quarrel has only ever been with Reagan.” She flung Ma’s name off her tongue like a mouthful of rancid fruit.

“And yet it’s my life you’re dismantling.”

“Temporary inconvenience, I swear.”

“How am I supposed to trust you while you attack my family?”

“I never said you could.” Her gaze hardened. She didn’t cower—just lifted her chin. “One bargain, and we go our separate ways with clear karmic ties. That’s all I’m offering. You’re bright enough to find what I want. And I have something you need.”

Have. Present tense. She was in possession of the crown—or confident enough to act like it. I shifted off the bed, bent down to snatch her sweater, and tossed it back before glancing over my shoulder.

“Midnight tomorrow. A mile north of the bridge, where the river meets the marais.”

“Absolutely not,” she laughed—but the sound was humorless. Instead, a skitter of fear ran up her vocals.

“Awe, is the infamous Wraith scared of a swamp?”

“A swamp? No. The fucking dinosaurs that live in the swamp? Absolutely. Do you know the bite force of an American alligator?!”

“Gators don’t just wander off to attack humans, Freya.”

“Not a chance I’m willing to take.”

I threw my head back and laughed. The feral demon creature would take on an entire coven of trained Paladins—including Wings—but was afraid of swamp critters. I couldn’t make this shit up.

“Bellaton side,” she amended, and I rolled my eyes. “There’s a cemetery not far from the bridge where the Bellatons have their mausoleums.”

“That’s a death trap.”

“Literally,” she said, rolling her eyes in exasperation. When I wasn’t envisioning strangling her, she was fucking funny. Because of course she was.

“I mean it, Freya, I can’t cross over. Reyna will kill me.”

“Is that what you told yourself when you brought her those victims?”