Page 371 of Commanding Blood And Bonds

“I’m sorry to see you again under these circumstances.”

I turned—and froze. The Seer of the South’s lookalike, save for blond hair. Cyrus. Freya’s mate.

Cyrus’ hands were already wreathed in shadow as he knelt beside me, haunted hazel eyes already rimmed in red. He extended his hands, funneled his element through Freya, and Magnolia gasped like a drowning woman breaking the surface.

I exhaled shakily.

“Grateful you’re in one piece, Prince,” I muttered.

“Likewise.”

Magnolia

I woke to the coppery tang of blood and antiseptic. Tried to move—whimpered as pain lit every inch of my body. What in the world...

A breath caught sharp in my throat as memory tumbled back through the fog. A concussion. That’s what this feeling in my skull was. Like my brain was cotton-wrapped and cracked at once.

Peeling open my eyes, I blinked into the harsh glare of a table lamp, wincing at the sting. The room was all shadow, except for that one blinding spot.

Warm hands held mine.

I looked down to find Aren, slumped over the bed, cradling my hand like it was the only thing keeping him grounded. Aren. The magic had taken me to Aren…

Oh, gods, Bellamy.

The bed groaned as I lurched upright—a cry tearing from my throat as pain arched like fire down my spine. Aren straightened at once, blinking groggily.

“Oh thank God. Take it slow, baby.” His voice—low, rough, warm—settled over me like a weighted blanket. Safe. I was safe.

That word jolted through me, and I remembered that was all I could think of when I was trying to get out of that hell. And the magic had taken me here.

My body relaxed instinctively, soothed just by his presence. His voice a balm I didn’t deserve. “Take it easy,” he said again, softer now. “You’re lucky to be alive—even with your sisters.”

I turned my head and winced as pain rippled through my bones. I saw that same pain reflected in Aren’s eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he added. “We’ll get you healed up as soon as we can. It took all five of them just to keep…him breathing. Reaper’s bullets tore him apart. They don’t think his magic will return for a while. But...they didn’t have much to offer you. And your magic is still tapped out. Apparently, mine can keep you breathing, but Freya doesn’t know how to convert it into something it’s not.”

He wasn’t looking at me. Head bowed, hands digging into his temples, elbows braced on his knees. “Magnolia…we kept him alive because Ally says we need him. But we’ve been hunting that man for months. And, uh…” He shifted, one hand squeezing the back of his neck. “He’s bound to Alvara’s will. Magic Bond from when he lost the battle in January. Die or serve—that was the deal. He fled before she could enforce it.”

The image of Bellamy bleeding on my doorstep slammed into me. The wound—precise. Between the fourth and fifth ribs, left of the sternum, miraculously angled away from his heart instead of toward it. A millimeter difference and he'd have been dead.

And Alvara? Alvara didn’t miss.

Not ever.

That timing wasn’t a coincidence.

I curled my fingers into the blanket on my lap—Aren’s blanket, the one he’d kept so pristine for me. I hated the sight of him curled in on himself. But worse was how quickly he pulled his hand from mine. The way he tugged on his hair. The way his face twisted with words he wasn’t saying.

I’d broken him.

And still, here he was—waiting. Sitting vigil beside me even as his heart ached.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured. “I know you thought you knew him. You obviously loved him. I should’ve seen it.” He dragged both hands over his face, as though trying to scrub the truth away.

“Aren, no. It’s not like that⁠—”

“You went back to him, Mags. You left me on that sidewalk and ran to him.”