Page 263 of Commanding Blood And Bonds

LMAO I knew it. You fucking psycho.

James

Dammit, big brother. You just lost me twenty bucks.

Sam

I expect it on my desk in the morning. And one of those frappes

James

Kiss my ass.

How are you, man? We’ve heard jack shit in months. How’s your beautiful bride?

Objectively, this was exactly my scene.

Or…it had been. Back when I was human.

But during the concert—one of the most acclaimed pianists of our generation playing alongside a full ballet, candlelight flickering across the theater—my skin felt numb. Our days before the portals were thinning, and with every one spent, the threads frayed. Every strike chipped at the armor I’d worked so hard to rebuild, and I could feel myself burrowing deeper into the quiet despair.

James’ last message echoed in my mind: How’s your beautiful bride?

Not great.

Not really.

Even with Adrastos finally falling silent, Alvara was still haunted. Still carrying the weight of lives she couldn't save. Still believing her lack of interference might as well be wielding the blade herself.

I wasn’t asking her to simply choose a better thread.

In her heart, I was asking her to murder our family.

And that burden—it was unspeakable.

She straightened in her seat as the dancers dipped and spun with impossible grace. The music soared, but I couldn’t look away from her. Creamy skin aglow against the shimmering fabric hugging her muscled lines, Alvara was a vision in black. She didn’t wear much makeup but always knew exactly what to highlight—the high arc of her cheekbones, the bridge of her slender nose, the bold curve of her lips. In a theater filled with rapt patrons, it was the candlelight on her that held me still.

I watched shadows dance across the mouth I’d memorized in every life. Watched her eyes spark with delight at every plucked string and drawn bow. I watched, until she turned and caught me, smiling like I was the only other soul in the building.

When I leaned in to kiss her, the world shrank to that moment. That warmth. That scent of late summer.

Naturally, that’s when her body tensed.

She turned sharply, scanning the space behind us, panic flickering in her eyes as they locked with mine.

What is it, love? I asked, mind-to-mind.

I didn’t see them coming. Her confusion rang clear, brows pinched as her heart spiked. Something’s wrong.

The air chilled. I was standing before she was, prepared to snap the neck of whatever fresh nightmare had decided to interrupt this night, of all nights.

Someone’s here…watching us.

Her eyes combed the crowd, then flicked up toward the balcony. Whatever she sensed, it was enough to have her moving—fast.

She strode down the aisle with purpose, weaving past feet and knees as best she could in heels. I stayed within reach, unwilling to let her out of sight as she pushed through the theater doors and out into the bustling street.

The city hit us like a wave—honking horns, screeching tires, rushing crowds. We both looked, left and right, for the disturbance.