Page 352 of Commanding Blood And Bonds

Alastair shifted behind me, guarding my back.

I lifted my chin and bellowed again. “Reagan!”

My eyes locked on Gio. His furious gaze snapped between me and the truck. I knelt, reached down, and pulled out the first gas can—uncapping it without breaking eye contact. He glanced around for help that wasn’t coming.

I pointed the spout at him like a blade.

“You know this is fucked, Gio. Cyrus believes in you. Defended you. Tell your people to stand down.”

His dark eyes flicked behind me again.

His lip curled.

“This is war,” he spat. “What you’re doing is declaring war.”

“What I’m doing,” I said, hopping onto the truck’s edge and hoisting the can, “is summoning your Queen for the final stint in my Crucible. Or am I not entitled to finish what she started?”

I poured. Gasoline soaked the pyre stacked in the truck bed. I raised the can, letting it flood every inch of my little gift.

“Tell them to stand down.”

He did.

“Good boy.”

Montague barred his path with a sword when he stepped forward.

The fumes burned in my nostrils as I pulled my mask over my mouth and nose. I breathed deep. Let the reek settle into my lungs. Let it fuel the fire that had been devouring me since I realized how far Reagan had gone.

“Wait!” Gio raised his hand. “Wait! She’s coming.”

I stepped into a tight circle, splashing more gasoline over the intricately stacked pyre in the back of my goddamn truck. Well, August’s. He’d have to forgive me later.

The manor doors burst open and Reagan rushed onto the porch, wide-eyed, panting. Her gaze snapped to the pyre. Then to me.

Bingo.

A sick sort of satisfaction flared in my chest and I smiled beneath the mask. Summoning stolen flames into my palm, I lifted them high above my head. Even that was a risk, with the fumes as thick as they were.

“No!” she screamed, lunging forward as shadows rolled off her shoulders and across the grass.

They reached for mine. But froze when I extended my hand over the pyramid. She said nothing. So I tore the mask down and smirked. Tilted my wrist, letting the flames hover—drip.

“Please! Wait!”

I steadied my hand but shook my head. “You didn’t extend me the same courtesy.” She hadn’t waited before torturing her own son. Just to get me here. “Your move, Reagan.”

Chest heaving, she stepped into the sunlight. Her shadows vanished, hands hovering near her blades. She hadn’t dulled since last time. If anything, she’d grown stronger. But her eyes⁠—

Her eyes were wide as they landed on what I’d done.

Four of her six Guardians, chained to the pyre.

Unconscious. Stripped of armor. Stripped of shirts. Necks slumped at unnatural angles.Bodies limp from the drugs we’d pumped into them.

Her skin went pale and those sharp blue eyes found mine. “Name your terms.”

Rattle the cage, chérie.