Page 157 of Commanding Blood And Bonds

Five weeks before the portals opened…

Alvara

Don’t kill the shadow prince.

I stared at Ally’s last message—timestamped over an hour ago—before clicking the button on my smartwatch to shut it off. What the hell was she smoking? Why would I kill the shadow prince now? I’d already had my opening and didn’t take it. Why the sudden warning?

But the second-guessing was short-lived. Ally didn’t say things unless she was sure. And that knowing, awful pit in my stomach told me everything was about to go sideways.

Valentine’s Day had been packed. Intel from Damien confirmed that Dad and Aren got their hands on more reaper’s bullets after the Renown ambush on our human emissaries. He was demanding fast results now, especially with Mom’s run-in fresh on his mind.

I’d spent most of the afternoon casing Luminark Manor—the Paladins’ main stronghold—to check for changes over the last thirty years. Rumor had it they were moving classified lab contents tonight, and while I was more than ready to fuck up their plans, Damien finally thought we had enough to act.

A proper night’s sleep sounded orgasmic.

Sighing, I climbed out of the sexy truck August had replaced my burner with, slamming the door shut. I straightened at the sight of Lainalei and G on the front porch, her head resting on his broad shoulder. G had one corded arm wrapped around her in quiet comfort. The crunch of gravel under my boots was the only thing that made them turn.

“All well?”

“Evenin’, Miss Porter. Far as I know,” G replied, as Lainalei’s expression soured.

“Anything I can help with?”

“No, ma’am. We’re, uh…I haveta say somethin’ at Darius’ service in the mornin’ and I needed an ear.”

“He trained us both,” Lainalei added curtly. I wasn’t sure when I’d gotten on her bad side, but I clearly had. “Not that it’s any business of yours. We were just swappin’ stories.”

Get it out!

I nodded, throat tight, resisting the urge to shut my eyes against the image that wouldn’t stop haunting me. “I’ll leave you to it,” I said, voice nearly cracking. This was war. There was no space for grief—not until it was over.

“G’night, Miss Porter,” G said amicably, offering a small smile. I clasped his bicep in passing before heading inside, kicking off my boots and dragging myself upstairs.

The house was unusually quiet, most lights dimmed. Evidently, G and the firedrake weren’t the only ones feeling melancholy today. That, or I was the only pathetic soul without a date tonight.

As I turned the corner, something felt wrong. So wrong that my body reacted before my brain could. I dropped into a crouch, drawing the blade from my boot, pulse hammering in my ears.

Guys. Where you at?

Crickets. Nothing from Brody or his brothers. Ally must’ve had them out on a mission. Which meant I was alone—with the feeling that someone was watching.

Ally’s text blared in my memory as I crept down the hallway.

The moment I opened my bedroom door, a scent hit me. Spicy orange, almost like Pinesol. The kind that sent flashbacks tearing through my spine. Roaming hands. Taunts and jeers.

I shook my head, trying to stay present as I moved in a methodic sweep.

Every ounce of warmth drained from my blood when I reached the back of my bedroom door.

Painted in red: You’re not the only one who can play this game, and it was only a matter of time before you got sloppy. 8:00. Come alone or he dies.

Breath hot in my chest, I reached for the folded paper pinned to the door. They’d been inside the estate. Inside the estate. How had no one sensed it?

My stomach dropped as I opened the note and saw the surveillance photo.

Blaz. Coming out of the bank, profile barely visible between the brim of his hat and his popped collar.

“Blaz,” I barked, louder than intended. “Blaz!”