Page 339 of Commanding Blood And Bonds

“She’s not wrong,” Jo added sagely. “You’re like a pit bull once you latch on to something.”

“Terrific visual,” I muttered, cracking my spine as I leaned back. At this rate, I was gonna look like a hunchback.

“You’re not skipping out, right?” Cali said, suddenly serious. “I know that bastard has to pay for what he did to Freya—and, you know, humanity. And yeah, I get that things get harder once Mom announces the alliance, but this is important, Cyrus. I need you there.”

“Jesus, Cal. Breathe.” I leaned forward and pinched the nerve in her knee that made her squirm. “Yes. I’ll be there.”

She swatted my hand away. “You better be, asshole.”

“Wouldn’t miss it.” I spread my arms wide, giving her a performative grin.

“I mean it.”

“Same. Gimme a little credit. When’s the last time I let you down?”

“It’s a terrible time to start.”

“Exactly. So, relax.” I dropped my hands, elbows braced on my knees. “I said I’ll fucking be there, and I will.”

“Fine,” she huffed, standing with a theatrical sigh and brushing crumbs off her lap.

“Call me if you find anything,” she said, already halfway to the door.

“Yeah.”

She glanced at Carr. “Watch him.”

Carr gave her a lazy two-finger salute. “Always.”

“Since when do I need a babysitter?” I barked after her.

She laughed like I was the punchline. Then, as if determined to prove she was still the worst, she bent down and licked my cheek.

“Gross,” I complained as she cackled her way out the door with Jo right behind her.

“The future leader of our hierarchy, gentlemen,” Carr intoned as he stole the last piece of gator.

Shaking my head, I returned to the books. Anything to distract me until Cali’s claim to the Heiress title was confirmed. We lost a few hours that way—just ink, anxiety, and that goddamn grandfather clock ticking louder with every passing second. But I couldn’t stop thinking about Freya. Hazel-ringed green eyes. Red hair.

Was she safe? Getting anywhere? The total silence from her end could’ve meant focus…or it could’ve meant trouble.

I kept checking my phone like some whipped little bitch.

“For fuck’s sake, just call her,” Carr mumbled.

“It’s fine,” I said, too sharp.

“If you say so.” He stretched and yawned, his book sliding off his lap. “Am I the worst cousin in history if I crash?”

“Cousin? No. Right-hand? Probably.”

“That’s cold, man.”

Midnight loomed on my screen. “Go for it. I’m heading out anyway.”

“Thank God. Some peace and quiet.”

I stood, rubbing my face. “You want a smoke? I’m jonesing.”