Page 96 of Commanding Blood And Bonds

“You should,” she agreed. “Should I let you suffer or put you out of your misery?”

“Who is she?”

“Flora MacDonald. I have mixed feelings, but you can’t deny she had moxie.”

As we rounded a corner, I watched her fingers trail gently from one object to the next, inhaling the stories as they rushed through her mind. I stopped when I reached a towering stone sculpture. The oriental styling was obvious, though I couldn’t read the language. My eyes caught on the axe in her hands.

“Fu Hao—also known as Si Mu Xin,” Ally supplied, catching my pause. “First known female military leader. Queen, priestess, general. Shang Dynasty. She was so legendary, they thought she was folklore…until they found her tomb.”

“Estelle would lose her mind in here.”

“Probably,” she said with a nervous giggle. Then she was off again, pointing out favorite pieces—women who inspired her or shaped her craft. Boudica. Jeanne de Clisson. Joan of Arc.

“When did you start this?” I gestured around us.

“The first time Ansel knocked me out in the ring.”

I winced involuntarily, the memory of Aren’s merciless training still fresh.

“It started with small tokens—things I could hide in Grayshell to remind me to keep getting back up. Eventually, I collected anything I couldn’t bear to lose.” She paused, a mischievous glint in her eye. “Legally, of course.”

“If I asked you to define legal?”

“I’d probably backpedal and say ethically.”

“That’s my girl,” I chuckled, leaning in to kiss her cheek. As I pulled back, my eye caught on an antique piano in the corner. Goosebumps rose along my arms.

I stepped toward it, fingers tracing the keys, then the delicate Victorian design etched along its side. Layla. Nightmares. Alvara. A cluttered thrift shop. My gaze flicked up to Ally, who was braiding her hair, lips curled in a satisfied smile.

“Is that⁠—?”

She drew a breath. “We were days behind you. For months. Always just a beat too slow.”

“Christ,” I murmured, tapping out a melody. It was slightly out of tune, but tolerable. I remembered the piano—dust-covered in a salvage shop.

“I was losing hope I’d ever catch up. Couldn’t explain why failing you felt like dying. Maybe it was Adrastos stirring things up, but…I saw you once before. Did I ever tell you that?”

I shook my head.

“New York. Marcus called me in to assist the local Commander. I felt you calling me. I slipped away after the mission, followed the pull, but it led me to Coney Island, and you were⁠—”

“Down on the beach,” I finished, smiling. “I couldn’t sleep, so I snuck out of our hotel room.”

She laughed quietly. “I remember watching you. Wishing you’d turn around. Furious I couldn’t find your mind. I blamed the city.”

“What pulled you away?”

“A healer went missing in Chicago. One of Eloise’s friends. The whole hierarchy was searching for her. I couldn’t be sure you were the calling. Couldn’t breach your shield, I guess. But when Jason and Damien called for backup, Marcus sent me in.”

She ran her hand over the piano, clearing a trail through the blanket of dust. “When this thing showed me you playing in that store…I realized I’d missed the mark.”

“Not that protecting friends is ever a mistake.”

“No,” she agreed quickly, eyes softening as she turned to me. “We brought them home. And we found you in the end. That’s what matters.”

My hands slid beneath the hem of her shirt, palms warming to her waist as I drew her close. Our hips brushed a beat before our mouths met. I wanted to feel every inch of her—wanted to peel away every barrier until nothing stood between us.

“You know what matters now?” I breathed against her lips.