Page 24 of Commanding Blood And Bonds

“Frida. With me and my father gone, the city will not hold. You must run. Promise me. Promise me you’ll run.”

“Stop!” she begged. The wound in my abdomen, the spinning of my mind—none of it compared to the sound of her breaking.

But I couldn’t stop.

Didn’t have a choice.

My heart thundered in my ribs as screams shattered the air. I turned, my back pressed against the cold stone wall, bile burning my throat as I fought to keep standing. “Run, my love.”

Too late.

The enemy descended on our hidden refuge. A guttural cry tore from my chest as she was yanked from my grasp by her hair.

The spray of her blood across my face had me welcoming the blade that came for me next...

Without a reprieve, the next reading crashed over me in a relentless tide, memories slamming through me one after another.

...Layla riding me, head thrown back in ecstasy, bare breasts peaked...

...Niamh, bleary-eyed and bloodied, pulling herself over my balcony with trembling limbs. Her black braid had been severed, the cut too clean—too sharp—to be anything but a sword.

I rushed for her as she fought her way over the railing.

Somewhere distant, I heard my voice say her name, but it was the hopelessness in her gaze, the way she panted in a futile attempt to catch her breath, that had the world growing fuzzy.

Saoirse. They’d killed my wife. It was a knowing before Niamh even said a word.

“No,” I breathed.

She nodded, a lone tear escaping down her tawny cheek.

“Betrayed,” she whispered, her shaking fingers coming away from her abdomen, slick with crimson. “We’ve been betrayed…”

...James, slipping beneath the ice. Sam and my mad dash across the frozen lake, blades scraping, ice flying.

I dove onto my belly, crawling toward the black void he had vanished into...

...A flash of emerald eyes and midnight hair. A face I could never be permitted to love, breaking into a radiant smile as she turned to her raven-haired brothers. Their faces were obscured by the fire’s flickering shadows.

Their laughter should have been a comfort.

Instead, it was a barrier keeping her at an unbearable distance...

...Freya, stepping into my Jeep after summer camp, a fresh gash slashed over her cheekbone. Another fight. Another mess I had to clean up...

...Her brother, draped in a navy jacket, dark hair pulled back at the nape of his neck, handing the woman I should have never desired to a man actually fitting of her station.

I stepped back into the shadows, swallowing the lump in my throat as her wide eyes found mine across the shifting bodies.

The world stilled for one long, agonizing beat.

In her gaze, I saw every touch, every stolen moment, every breathless, whispered fear we had shared.

Then the moment snapped shut.

A shoulder bumped mine.

And he turned her away from me...