Page 272 of Commanding Blood And Bonds

“You’re making a mistake.”

I arched a brow. “No. I think we’re just fixing yours.”

FIFTY

LIMITS

FREYA

“Now you look like a Grayshellian!” Brody boomed proudly, throwing his arms wide as I finished the last of Reyna’s drills. She’d run me through every medical test in the book before dragging my ass to the field to see what I could do with this thing.

“Except for the fact that she’s still…petite.” All things considered, that was probably the nicest way Reyna could phrase it.

“Not the size of the dog in the fight, Mother,” Blaz drawled from where he lay sprawled in the sun, shirtless and smug in the balmy return of that Southern sixty degrees. Reyna considered that, lips pursed, before deciding not to answer. Long enough to concern me.

“Yes?” I pressed, unwrapping the tape from my hands and relishing the sting left behind.

“Your strength against the Renown will be draining them before they can get anywhere near you,” she noted.

“Agreed.”

“You’ll be…like a power bank for your coven,” Blaz pointed out, like that was the most fantastic position a girl could hold. His phone lit up briefly before he slid it into his pocket, expression unreadable.

“Just what every girl dreams of being,” I said airily. “A life-size battery.”

“But think logistically, Freya. You beside your brother—the shield. He keeps them at a distance, and the ones who break through get drained. You redistribute their power to the souls inside the shield. You’re a hell of an asset.”

“Very good,” Reyna said, smirking at her son. “While we’re entertaining strategy, what do you expect Adrastos to do next?”

Blaz took a beat, tilting his face toward the sun as he thought. “He hit Grayshell first. Why?”

“We’re the strongest hierarchy of warriors on the continent—no offense,” I added to the Queen as an afterthought.

“One of us still has our Middle and the other doesn’t, so I think that speaks for itself,” Reyna shot back snottily—but the brow waggle labeled it play.

“I’ll still kick your ass,” Brody said, smirking over at her. Reyna blushed and rolled her eyes.

“Agreed,” soap boy echoed.

“Right,” Blaz said, unbothered. “But they didn’t just hit Grayshell—they decimated your method of communication when they locked you out of the Middle. Oldest trick in the book: divide thousands of souls from their Commander and covens.”

“Divide and conquer is tried and true for a reason,” I muttered, tearing more aggressively at the adhesive and wincing when it pulled skin.

“How many of those souls have been deployed for decades? How long will it take to get information passed along? Sure, if the world falls under attack, they’ll return to your territory…but Adrastos—or whoever’s pulling his strings—rendered Aren’s superpower useless in a day and scattered the biggest threats of retaliation. Either they rebuild…or find a gate in.”

“Kay, you’re making me queasy,” I muttered, shifting on my feet.

“Sorry, but it’s true. I think he’s gonna hit hard and fast—everywhere at once. If past strategy tells us anything, it’s that what worked here will work again. Smash them to pieces, cut the line home.”

My analysis had led to the same conclusion—and Alvara’s visions echoed it. But for a nineteen-year-old who’d never seen combat? “I’m impressed.”

“What else?” Reyna asked, standing tall now, full Commander mode. “Let’s look at it from a psychology standpoint.”

“Adrastos bargained with Commander Porter using honor as leverage. It was a mega-duel between hierarchies more than opponents.”

“Which makes you think of…” Reyna prompted.

“The Paladins.”