Page 248 of Commanding Blood And Bonds
“My mother can get fucked.”
“You want to tell her that, or are you asking me to do it? Pretty sure only one of us walks away from that conversation.”
“Fuck her.”
“I know, man, but listen. That was all very public. If we were worried about infighting with the Wings before—what happened today, after Poe named you Harbinger, is about to split the whole fucking hierarchy in half.”
“Good.” Let them split. Let the cracks show.
“You say that now, but what about when Cali inherits this mess?”
“Fuck,” I groaned, closing my eyes like I could will the world to vanish.
“Go, Cyrus.”
“But Freya—”
Carr glanced her way, his expression softening. “If you’re implying Jo and I would let anything happen to your mate, I swear on my life Nix stabbing you will be the high point of your day.”
I snorted, curling forward to brace my elbows on my knees, massaging the throb in my temples. “Thought she was a pain in your ass.”
“She is. She’ll probably be worse now. But my loyalty’s to you. Until you say otherwise, she’s mine to protect too.”
I held his eyes for a long beat. Then I sighed and shook my head.
A mate from a rival hierarchy we’d just defended with our lives and still didn’t fully trust.
A cousin exiled and fuming, who’d never stop trying to prove he deserved a second chance.
A mother who saw her son named a glory-bringer and then stripped him of honor in front of our people.
A council threatening to tear itself apart over a war none of us chose.
Yeah. Fuck me.
Three Stuarts, stone-faced and silent, sat at the marble table in the neutral estate The Six used for conclaves.
Normally, they met quarterly—unless something urgent arose. This felt urgent.
More likely, it would be as slow and stupid as every other council meeting: posturing, politicking, and everyone chasing the same drug—control. Three hierarchies had already whispered about seceding from the covenant. But unraveling the old magical contracts would require sacrifices few were willing to make.
This time, it was King Kade of the Necromancers who’d called us here. No one knew why.
Kade never called these things. Hell, he barely showed up.
Then again, Moros was worse. His so-called hierarchy was a shadow of a memory—a few dusty descendants clinging to a title with no realm left to rule. His votes were symbolic at best, arbitrary at worst. I wondered if he even knew I now held his psychotic father’s sword.
One by one, the hierarchies arrived. The fourth door to open was the one that made me turn.
She walked in like shadow wrapped in silk.
The power around her was wrong in all the right ways—coiled, ancient, bone-deep. Not loud, not flashy. Lethal. A red dress hugged full curves with a femininity most souls didn’t dare wear. Not my type—but Carr would trip over himself.
My shadows stirred and…knelt? As if a queen was in their midst. Like a goddess among men, she wore death like her skin as she lifted her chin—not in deference to the leaders gathered, but in defiance of them.
I liked her instantly.
My power tugged toward her like it had already decided on my behalf, and when I glanced at my mother, her head was tilted in that predator’s way—watching, calculating.
