Page 2 of Commanding Blood And Bonds

When I glanced over my shoulder, Aren’s expression told me he didn’t believe me as far as he could throw me. Considering his particular skill set, that might have been generous. With a nod, I averted my eyes. No need to disrespect him by lying more than I already had.

He knew. He had to know. You didn’t run a hierarchy for this many centuries without knowing when someone was full of shit.

With one barked order, Aren could have brought me right to heel if he chose.

No order?

Free reign, in my opinion.

As our little envoy bowed our heads to pray, I relished the caress of sunlight on my skin, the coastal breeze threading through my hair. We were going to need every bit of divine intervention we could get.

Reyna would side with us—we already knew that, thanks to Ally and the Bellatons track record of protecting the innocent—but we needed her allegiance in following Aren and August into this war.

As for her sister?

That was just a debt long owed.

With one last fortifying breath of Florida humidity, I nodded farewell to The Commander.

A beat later, Brody jumped us out.

Lichen and mildew tangled in what should have been air but felt like fog. I wrinkled my nose, scowling. Seventy-percent humidity—even in the dry season—was not for me. Looking up and around, I took in the draping sage-green moss that hung from great oaks like fabric, their prickly-looking limbs reaching skyward on either side of the clearing and path ahead. Endless flora sprouted in every direction, some bushes even bearing colorful flowers. Jesus, it was so green here. The air scraped into my lungs, and I turned on my companions. Brody, blond hair in a bun, grinned and quirked his head as he moved past me.

“Welcome back to the Bellaton-Paladin divide, little Wraith.”

“Joy,” I mumbled, hiking my duffle bag higher on my shoulder as I glared at the familiar landscape. Ajax chuckled darkly, adjusting his own pack to make space for the dagger slung at his hip.

“Come on, little lady, we’ve got an ally to win over,” Alastair said, the smile in his voice sharper than the one threatening to activate his dimples.

Kicking out a foot, I smirked and bit out, “Little lady?” I laughed aloud as he stumbled past me.

“Prove me wrong, pipsqueak, and you can pick your moniker.”

I followed in his wake as my eyes adjusted to the darkness. “Get me to Grayshell so I can properly grow, you giant.”

“Working on it.”

“You know, maybe some of us reach our optimal height and stop. I’m The Wraith. A thief. Hard to sneak when you’re colossal. Does it sound like thunder when you tiptoe?”

“This vessel has served me just fine.”

“Do a lot of sneaking, do you?”

“I prefer a more direct approach.”

“No wonder Aren loves you.”

Alastair choked on a laugh, then jerked his chin up ahead. I’d always liked the trio. Brody—or Ambroise, if Grayshell bothered to use proper names—had broody big-brother vibes but cracked to accommodate thunderous laughter when it was earned. He was next in line for Grayshell Commander after Saraya—not that anyone could stomach the idea of a Grayshell without Aren. I was queasy just thinking about it. Then there were the twins, Ajax and Alastair. Ajax took absolutely everything seriously, while Alastair, the black sheep of the family—literally, with his brunette waves in contrast to his brothers’ blond—took absolutely nothing seriously.

Go figure my now-brother affectionately nicknamed them The Greeks. Perhaps the fact that we’d gotten on well in past lives was why they’d been saddled with this acquisition mission alongside me. Still shaking his head, Ajax led the way through moss curtains that parted to reveal a sprawling, manicured emerald lawn, and I sucked in a breath.

Well, this should be fun, I muttered internally, mind just as sarcastic as my foul mouth.

Every clan has their strengths and weaknesses, Ajax offered as we closed the gap.

And Reyna? Pompous, pretentious, bigoted ass—if my memory served me correctly.

Possesses the second strongest legion of warriors in North America.