Page 291 of Commanding Blood And Bonds

“And you know as well as I do my parents have no interest in disseminating Aren’s propaganda to our people.”

“Propaganda implies you don’t believe our report, Stuart.”

“It implies the Queen doesn’t. I didn’t say where I stood.”

Reyna jumped in. “You’re seriously telling us you didn’t see the wanted poster?”

He deadpanned. “Do I seem like a man who wouldn’t leverage that kind of intel if I knew The Resistance’s most wanted just popped into my fucking throne room?”

“It isn’t in a Paladin’s nature to do anything that doesn’t serve them,” Reyna said bitterly.

For fuck’s sake.

“Cyrus isn’t his mother,” I snapped, still irritated she hadn’t bothered to hear me out. So much for winning her fucking favor. “He proved that the day he chose my life over his own.”

“Don’t delude yourself into thinking he saved you for anything noble, Miss Porter.” Her glare could’ve burned a hole through steel. “He promised you to that monster.”

Cyrus stayed silent, but his eyes burned with loathing as he stared her down.

“He had ample opportunity to turn me over when I was unconscious for three days, under his care. If he were going to pay the debt, that was the window.”

“Or you’re too foolish to recognize when he’s lulling you into complacency.”

“Your theory has more holes than Swiss cheese.” Why the fuck was I defending him? He could handle himself just fine. Hell, I didn’t even trust the man, Mate Bond or not. But he’d given me no reason to believe he meant me harm—and today, he’d risked his neck…again.

“And your karmic baggage is hiding his true intentions,” she retorted. A wall of defensiveness rose in my mind, logic be damned. Cyrus flexed his hands where they hung between his knees, unfiltered hatred seething toward Reyna.

“What the fuck do you think I owe you?” he intoned, voice level but ice-cold. “I just gave you all the information on your man. A little gratitude would be nice.”

He wasn’t wrong. The words were strategic—nothing that implicated him. Lonan had first appeared masked in the Luminark Manor throne room and offered to clear Reagan’s debt in exchange for me—hence the Wings’ determination to bring me in alive. His mother’s familiarity with the masked man confirmed what I’d seen in her court. And Cyrus had summoned him on Valentine’s Day, during the trap they’d laid after Nix kidnapped Blaz—but he didn’t show. Probably too busy orchestrating synchronized attacks on all our allies.

Reyna didn’t care. “If you’d been useful intentionally, perhaps.”

“Enough,” Ally and I snapped at the same time.

“For pity’s sake, Reyna, he’s a new soul. He’s saved Freya three times this week and challenged his cousin to protect her.” Ally tilted her head in feline scrutiny. It made me squirm. Cyrus, however, held her stare like a fucking stone statue. “I agree with Freya. What’s more pressing is what Adrastos intends to do with this Crown.”

That finally shifted the room’s focus. Theories flew, but my eyes stayed on Cyrus where he sat, scowling at the floor. His mind churned—clearly. And Ally, based on that earlier dig, now knew my true intentions behind completing the Crucible. The problem? Adrastos revealing himself had undermined my authority. Who would trust a thief indebted to the enemy with the power of a throne?

Even my coven might balk.

And Cyrus…he might honor the Bond now, but once my true intent came out? No. He was Paladin to the core. Not even a supernal Bond could outweigh duty and honor. Keeping my distance was the only strategy. When I hurled my challenge at Reagan’s feet, he’d change his tune—and I wouldn’t blame him. He might even place himself between me and his mother.

And that was a blow I couldn’t afford to feel.

I didn’t come this far just to quit.

As if he sensed my thoughts, Cyrus looked up—warm hazel eyes meeting mine. Imploring. Every line of his face was carved from granite, like he was trying to say something I was too blind to understand.

Eleven leaders surrounded him. One exit. No allies. Of course he was uneasy, anger rolling off him in waves. But he’d stayed. Stayed to make sure I was safe—even knowing Reyna’s wrath was coming. He’d cut off August’s protest to defend me like I was his to defend.

And now he sat watching his rivals strategize a war he had no say in, both of whom wanted to move him like a pawn on a chess board. Leaving would look like guilt—or betrayal. Staying forced him to endure every barb like a live wire.

I had no business caring that he was in a no-win scenario.

Irritated that I did, I shoved off the wall.

I needed Aren. Or Ansel. Someone who could put Reyna in her place for once. Cyrus deserved better.