Page 249 of Commanding Blood And Bonds

The men around the table squirmed, but it wasn’t reverence. It was fear. They couldn’t see the balance, only the threat. They had no idea what she was. Just that she could end them.

And for once, I didn’t mind serving a matriarch. Not when it made me sharper than the idiots around me.

Who is the goddess in red? my mother asked, voice slicing between me and Dad like steel through silk.

Life. And death, Dad replied, as if that explained everything.

Hell, maybe it did. She wasn’t a Reaper, or a siphon. But whatever she was, it coiled through the room like a serpent—and I didn’t have a better word for it.

She met my eyes, and a chill danced down my spine. Teal blue and electric.

Nathara followed behind and took the seat beside her, confirming my suspicion—Hazelharbor's new second.

Ceremonial introductions followed. Moros, unsurprisingly, was absent. I’d hoped to charm an invite to his estate to advance my search for Freya’s diadem but no such luck.

The newcomer? A healer named Magnolia Green. And as luck—or fate—would have it, she was the reason we were here.

“Well,” Kade said, slicing through the noise, “Dr. Green, you have the floor, as requested.”

All eyes shifted to her.

She stood calm, unyielding. Her tattooed fingers laced, and chin lifted. She reminded me of Freya.

When the room went silent, she said, “I motion to repeal the Guardianship Law for Matriarchal hierarchies.”

Chaos descended like a storm nobody saw coming. Voices exploded across the table. Men shouting over one another, too small-minded to even let the witch talk. Tradition gripping their throats like nooses snapped taut.

My mother stayed silent—studying Magnolia like a puzzle piece she’d half-suspected existed.

You’ll vote in her favor, I asked, mind-to-mind. More statement than question. I turned, staring at both my parents stony faces.

Calypso had begged us to leave the council for years—for the freedom to love who she wanted, when she wanted. She was twice the soul and three times the mind of anyone here.

But if she ever took a male to bed after the magic marked her Heiress, that soul would be bound by law, their fate sealed.

Fucking archaic.

That enchantment should’ve been gone generations ago.

My mother was quiet for an eternity before finally replying.

Yes.

FORTY-SIX

THE WRAITH

FREYA

A silky-smooth cloud cradled my bare skin, and I nestled into the warmth of absolute bliss. Tugging the plush comforter up to my chest, I buried my face in it. So stinking cozy. My body actually felt rested—for the first time in…God, when had I last felt balanced? I couldn’t remember. Certainly not in the last six weeks.

Inhaling deeply, I soaked up the scent—cedarwood, leather, and…tobacco.

I jackknifed upright.

My hands flew out to steady myself, fingers sinking into the softest comforter I’d ever touched in my life. Gasping, I took in the unfamiliar room. Enormous stone walls, an art collection that would make most curators weep, an entire wall of perfectly straightened bookshelves. Opposite that, four cathedral windows framed a soft gray light.

Disoriented, I blinked rapidly, then looked down at my body.