Page 215 of Commanding Blood And Bonds

With a huff, he crossed his arms, the scroll tucked under one elbow. I just stared back, stunned. That dull, wordless sensation had me frozen.

“Don’t look so shocked, Freya,” Cyrus drawled, though his eyes were fixed on his boots.

“Just…didn’t think any of you noticed me back then. Not until that night.”

“Everybody noticed you, Porter,” Carrson bit out. “Why else would we all have had a collective aneurysm when you were the one strung up in our rafters a few nights back? You think our coven just lets a hostage stroll out the goddamn door?”

“I just thought⁠—”

“That was rhetorical,” Cyrus cut in, rubbing the back of his neck before lifting his gaze. There was something unusually sincere in it. “One bargain. To clear a life debt. But if you give me this, I’ll trade you a vial of my blood before you go after the diadem.”

I wrinkled my nose. “I’m a siphon, not a vampire. That’s not exactly a cocktail.”

“No, but it’s a key. One that could unlock limitless potential. If you’re infiltrating a Bellpost stronghold, you’ll need the shadows. Take it or leave it. Buddy system, remember?”

“Bonded by trauma,” I muttered. My gaze dropped to my boots before flicking up to Ajax, who raised his hands in the universal symbol for leave me the fuck out of this.

The Paladins’ expressions were unreadable, but their eyes told a different story. Sapphire blue, and warm citrine, both full of ghosts.

They’d changed in the last five years. Charles had changed them. Whether for better or worse, I hadn’t decided. But if my plan worked—if Paladin belonged to me by the end of next month—these two dipshits would make or break my coronation. If I won my duel and Cyrus and Carrson backed me, I had a feeling Cali might abdicate rather than take me on. Maybe that was a wild assumption. But she didn’t exactly scream queen material.

The Guardians had to die. Unless their bonds were more sentence than honor. That was a given. But if I could preserve any of the ruling members, it would save me a hell of a lot of grief.

Throwing them a bone…might not be the worst idea.

Something golden shimmered faintly in the air—just at the edge of my sight. Like a glimmer of the web of fate. Again, it whispered that word into the cold, dark wind.

Mercy.

With a long-suffering sigh, I said, “On one condition.”

“What. Now?” Cyrus bit out.

“I’ll be real with you. I don’t fucking trust you.”

“The feeling’s mutual.”

“Good. So you won’t mind my proposition.”

“My hand in marriage was spoken for decades ago, I’m afraid.”

Yeah…to me. Not that I was about to tell him that. Gross.

“Business proposition, jackoff.” When Cyrus just crossed his arms and sighed like I’d asked him to donate a kidney, I wet my lips and continued. “A Magic Bond.”

“Who the fuck is mad now?”

“Just for the duration of the job. Once we’re home safe, we’re all free and clear. But this way, we’re magically compelled not to harm each other, lay traps, or assist any outside parties with ill intent. No acting on behalf of Lonan. No breathing a word about the mission or destination to anyone else. We are all bound to do everything in our power to bring each other home safely. The Bond will dissolve once we’re back from the Crypt, and not a moment before. Our window is noon GMT—sun at its peak. We leave here by five-thirty sharp. Oh, and one more thing—Freya Porter will hold the highest title and command for the operation.”

Cyrus and Carrson exchanged a long, meaningful look.

To my immense relief, Jax said absolutely nothing.

The Prince of the Southern Paladins exhaled like I’d asked him to give up his firstborn, ran his palms down his face, and finally gave one reluctant nod.

Wordlessly breaking the stand-off, all four of us stepped forward, clasping forearms—bodyguards linking over our hands like one big knot.

A thief with ink on their hands was a bold choice. I took full advantage of Cyrus’s rare gloveless condition, eyeing the hooded angel and inked shadows on his arm. I arched a brow and rotated his hold to reveal a brutal blade etched into his forearm, its seraphim wings detailed and biblically accurate. A chain looped the angel’s neck, and eyes were inked into the wings of the dagger.