Page 252 of Commanding Blood And Bonds

“Jax? He’s been brought up to speed.”

That name didn’t track. A throb of confusion pulsed in my temple. Jax? Ajax.

Oh God. They didn’t know about August.

“I have to warn you—Cyrus doesn’t offend easily, but if you puke on his Persian rug, that might do it.”

“What?” My voice cracked at least an octave too high.

“You look a lil’ peaky,” she said, making a face. “Try sittin’. Head between your knees.”

“I had a stroke.”

“What?”

“That’s what this is,” I declared definitively. “I’m having a stroke. It’s fine. I’m fine. I’ll just—uh—be going so I can die at home. Thanks!”

She called my name, but I was already moving, throwing open the door⁠—

—and slamming into a wall of…man back.

Big. Broad. Impossibly still.

Carrson stood like the King’s damn Guard, gaze shifting over his shoulder with all the warmth of a glacier.

“Oh look,” he said, dry as dust. “It wakes.”

“Morning, Fluffy. Mind pointing me to the gate?”

“What?” he snapped, blinking.

“She thinks she needs to leave,” Calypso explained, suddenly at my side, making me jump so hard my heart probably lodged itself somewhere near Carrson’s kidneys.

“Stop doing that!” I barked. She looked genuinely confused. Slightly offended. “The just-appearing-out-of-nowhere thing. It’s terrifying.”

“Oh,” she said, laughing. Then to Carrson, “Anyway. She wants to go home.”

Carrson’s eyes went wide. Outrage flared. He glanced down both ends of the hallway, then turned and grabbed my arm like I was a misbehaving toddler.

“Hey!” I barked, wrenching back. “Touch me again and I will bite your hand off. I’m starving.”

“We have food, you savage,” he growled.

“Look, Lassie, I am four days deep into a fever dream from hell and four days behind on plans that cannot afford to be meddled with, and it is time for this pain in your ass to go annoy someone else. Got it?”

I swore to God, the two of them blinked at me like synchronized sloths.

“Is she serious?” Carrson asked.

“It would appear so.”

“After everything Cyrus fucking did to protect you? Are you kidding me?”

I practically squeaked, “What? Look, we entered that crypt⁠—”

“Not the crypt, you colossal jackass,” he snapped. “The man has bent over backwards to keep you safe. You don’t just run off⁠—”

“Excuse me?” I snapped, heat exploding behind my eyes. “Listen here, Shilo, I don’t know who you think you are, but nobody tells me what to do. People who try? It ends badly for them.”