Page 353 of Commanding Blood And Bonds

His voice sparked hope in my chest and I grinned, widened my stance, and tilted my head.

“Where is my fucking mate?”

SIXTY-FIVE

ILLUMINATION

CYRUS

Where is my fucking mate?

My heavy eyes flew wide. Gray stone walls. Nix’s back.

Holy shit, Freya was in my head.

Chérie? That you?

Where are you?

Dungeons. Interrogation chamber. East wing. Nix is here.

Are you okay?

I’ve been better. I’ll survive. You?

A bit preoccupied. Someone will come for you. Carr trusts him. I’m so sorry.

And then she was gone. As quickly as she’d appeared.

If my heart could’ve flung itself against the walls of my chest, it would have.

“You!” Nix snarled, spinning toward me with more fury than I’d managed to provoke during the endless hours of agony. “You think you’re fucking clever?”

“For once in your life, Nix, try making some sense.”

The Wing behind him opened the cell gate, dark blue eyes flicking toward mine. “Merikh,” I pleaded, “you know me. You know this is bullshit. I live and breathe for our people.”

“I’m taking you upstairs, Prince.” Flat. Emotionless. The perfect soldier.

“Why?” I barked as he stepped toward the shackles, Nix pacing behind him like a caged tiger.

“Orders,” he replied simply.

“Merikh, please. Gimme somethin’.” Speaking was an unholy agony.

“Shut up!” Nix snapped, hands flexing at his sides.

“We’ve been summoned,” Merikh muttered as he released my first wrist. My body shrieked in protest with even that minor shift in weight. The vault doors stood open. And now fear laced the very air. “I dunno what you got yourself into, Cy, but⁠—”

“I said shut up!” Nix exploded, storming over and swinging. The Wing barely dodged his fist.

“Traitors get nothing, do you hear me?”

“I’m no traitor,” I gritted, clenching my teeth as Merikh unlatched the second shackle. Nix shifted uneasily, his eyes flicking above us as if he could see through the ceiling. My dislocated shoulder lit my right side on fire; my left screamed with each movement, broken ribs grinding.

Merikh locked eyes with me—sympathy, or something close to it, briefly visible in the blue depths. “Can you walk, Prince?”

I swallowed my retort about carrying me and nodded. Because walking, even to the executioner’s block, brought me closer to her.