Page 68 of Kazimir

Archon inclined his head. “That is possible. Not perfectly. But enough to complicate his search.”

“How?” Taras asked without lifting his gaze from the notes he was making. “Specifics.”

“A layered approach. Wards built not merely to conceal but to refract. Her celestial trace must appear smeared, multiplied, difficult to isolate. She should not travel unshielded. She should not use her wings outside controlled conditions unless necessary. If she bleeds, the place must be immediately sealed and cleansed. Angelic blood carries instruction.”

That phrase made every small hair on my arms rise. Carries instruction.

Ryder leaned forward. “Instruction to whom?”

“To any celestial signature-bearing sense nearby,” Archon said. “It does not speak in words. It resonates. If spilled in quantity, it can be read.”

“Well,” I muttered, because my mouth had no sense of occasion, “that’s deeply invasive.”

Lucia’s eyes cut to me, a flash of grim amusement. “You are adapting beautifully.”

I blew out a breath. “I’ve had practice.”

Kazimir’s hand moved from my back to the nape of my neck and settled there, not gripping, simply occupying the place like a vow. “If she must fly, it will be within warded boundaries only.”

“I agree,” Archon said. “For now.”

For now. I hated those words. They had an ugly temporary shape to them, like a cast around a limb that still itched underneath.

Nikolay folded his hands. “What about the blood exchange itself? The feeding. Is it strengthening her enough to make it worth the risk?”

The room didn’t change, exactly, but my face still heated so fast I could have lit candles with it. There were only so many ways for a room full of your mate’s family and allies to discuss your sex life before your skin decided modesty was a hobby worth remembering.

Ryder, damn him, looked entirely clinical. “That’s not a prudish question. It matters.”

“I know,” I said, and wished my blush had the decency to behave like a mature emotion instead of a schoolgirl’s betrayal.

Archon regarded me with the tact of a man who had probably delivered battlefield verdicts and death notices and knew embarrassment ranked low among crises. “From what you described, her system appears to have recognized his blood as sustaining once a certain threshold of power was exchanged. That may be because of what she is. It may be because of the mating. Likely both.”

“Meaning?” Kazimir asked, voice flat with concentration.

“Meaning I would advise caution but not abstinence.” Archon’s gaze remained level. “Depriving the bond entirely could weaken her in ways we do not yet understand. Controlled exchange is preferable. Monitored. Intentional.”

Bohdan sat back with a little exhale. “Congratulations, Father. Doctor’s orders.”

“Enough,” Lucia said, though her mouth twitched.

I wanted to crawl under the table and live there for at least forty-seven years.

Kazimir, because he was a bastard and also because he was mine, turned his head just enough that only I would catch the slight change at the corner of his mouth. Not a smile. Worse. The possibility of one.

You blush beautifully, svetoch.

I shoved a thought down the bond at him before I could stop myself. If you laugh at me in front of your children, I will bite you somewhere inconvenient.

His answering pulse of amusement slid through me like dark silk. Promise?

I had to look at the table to keep my expression from giving us away.

Amelia’s pen stopped. “If her blood can call attention and his blood sustains her, Kyra will want samples.”

Ryder nodded immediately. “Same.”

For a moment the sentence just sat there, and then I realized they both meant medically and magically, and not in some depraved little laboratory fantasy my overheated brain tried to invent.