Page 410 of Commanding Blood And Bonds

So I did what I could. “Bomb!” I screamed.

Lana flung herself over her daughter. Both fell to the asphalt, arms over heads.

And then⁠—

The scream I had dreaded tore the world in half.

Magnolia.

It wasn’t a cry—it was the sound of someone being ripped apart. Her voice split the battlefield, louder than death, louder than God. A supersonic screech that nearly cleaved me in two.

Something warm trickled from my nose.

I touched it. Red. A nosebleed. I wiped it away with shaking fingers.

Shadows licked across the grass and pavement—fleeing, like smoke dragged by wind.

I dropped to the ground, curled into a ball, arms clutched over my ringing ears.

And the world was swallowed by blinding light.

By shadow.

By glory.

By the inky ribbons of death itself.

Magnolia

Someone was screaming so loud it felt like my skull would split open. Like an axe had cleaved through the center of my mind. I clutched my head in both hands, as if I could hold the fragments of myself together. Even my shadows abandoned me—a green mist curling from my fingertips, fleeing across the pavement like they could outrun the pain.

But as my soul shattered, so too did the world.

A blast of light flung my arms wide. My throat tore with the scream still erupting from me as death claimed his prize. And the light—gods, the light—came from everywhere.

Went everywhere.

It wasn’t until the earth reeled that I understood: the light came from me. From deep in my chest.

I was light and shadow. Life and death. All wrapped in flesh, disguised as a healer bearing forbidden magic.

Too much.

The power was too much. It would destroy me from the inside out as my magic detonated—burning, expanding, unfurling like a sunburst. An eruption.

I had spent so many years suppressing it. Tamping it down. Pretending I was smaller than I was. But grief had shattered the seal I’d so carefully forged. Broken open the cage that held a goddess’ fury at bay.

Now there was no stopping it. I was a volcano of pain and light. Of death and shadow. Of love and grief so sharp it could split the heavens.

And I would burn the world for taking him from me.

So, I let go. Let the power sear through me—burning, burning, burning⁠—

Until the darkness took me.

Freya

I pushed myself up from the pavement, ash raining around me like snow from a dying sky. Every window on the street had shattered, now charred and blackened—like the hollow eyes of a skull, rimmed with shadow. A chill climbed down my spine as I staggered to my knees, hands pressing to my temples while I grunted through the pain still throbbing behind my eyes. I popped my jaw, blinking into the smoke-thick dusk. The sun itself was muted, choked by the ash still falling over the city.