Page 218 of Commanding Scythe and Sky

Reaching down the line to Cali’s half-asleep consciousness, I said, Morning, Sis.

Piss off.

Soon. But when you’re less hostile, can you please bring a fresh cup of coffee to the office?

To splash in your face?

There’s a good chance you’ll get to watch Freya do just that.

A snort of humor came down the bond. Am I being made an accomplice?

Maybe?

I hate to break it to you, but you’re not going to make up for going Neanderthal on her with her drug of choice, Cyrus.

No shit. But we’re gonna be on the warpath today and she needs to think clearly.

Jo would like to know why you give a fuck now?

I must’ve growled audibly, because Freya shot a glare in my direction as Carr tossed her a marker.

God forbid a man come up for air, Josephine.

Sleep with your eyes open, prince, came Jo’s marginally more alert voice. She hated her full name.

Bring me a cup of coffee and I might manage that.

Fine.

Thank you.

To Freya, I asked, “What does ‘reunification’ mean?”

“What?” she snapped, rapidly tapping the marker against her palm, eyes on her notes.

“You have it circled three times. Figured that was significant.”

“To be determined.”

“What’s the context?” Vesper hissed, canting her head.

“Ciaran brought me letters. Apparently, he found them in Reagan’s things, including but not limited to a missive from Adrastos as Lonan, telling her they had to prevent the reunification of TGC.”

“The Great Commander,” Orion said, nodding.

“No shit,” Carr muttered irritably. I wasn’t sure he’d ever extend the same leeway to Reagan’s Guardians as he did my father. A certain level of immunity was granted because of the mate bond, apparently. I couldn’t say I gave a shit. He’d still taken the Blood Bond to begin with, like the most sacred of ties wasn’t enough.

“That was his explanation for the hit on your calling,” I concluded.

“Apparently your mother had reservations about offing a calling.”

“Well, that’s a relief,” I deadpanned. “Glad to know she had some moral qualms where the Accords are concerned.”

“But none when it came to torturing you.” The room went silent. I could still feel eyes flicking between us when Cali and Jo strolled in. “Grand fucking Central,” Freya sighed, pointedly leaning against the corner of her desk.

“So, what’d we miss?” Jo chirped as she sauntered over and handed a steaming mug to Freya… who accepted, smirking over the rim at me.

Nice, Freya. Real nice.