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The rest of my Blood wouldn’t be able to shift at all. They’d lose their beasts. Vivian might lose Smoak, her sunfire.
And they’d do it without question. Simply because I asked them.
Even more, I’d lose the never-ending hunger burning inside me. Despite the delicious smells of creamy scrambled eggs, fresh fruit, and warm, freshly baked bread, I could still smell Guillaume’s skin. I stared at the strong column of his throat above the simple white shirt he wore. The beat of his heart on my tongue. My fangs buried deep in him. Taking him. Again. And again. And again.
He let out a warm chuckle, his eyes sparkling like sapphires. “That’s what I fucking thought, Your Majesty.”
3
RIK
Rage crawled through my veins, turning my muscles to heavy stone. The rock troll surged inside me, aching to pound his fists against the floor. The walls. The Ozark mountains surrounding the nest. I’d turn them into a pile of rubble.
I’ve failed her.
Worse, the only way to correct the problem…
Would be for me to die. She’d never allow me to step down for another alpha of my own free will. She loved me too much.
“I don’t need to call more Blood immediately.”
The soft, gentle tone of her voice pissed me off even more. All the soothing little touches and the careful way the other Blood avoided prickling my alpha pride. As if I was a toddler who needed constant reassurance that I was needed and loved.
The sound of ripping cloth mocked me. Maybe I was a toddler. I couldn’t control myself enough to hold the rock troll back.
“If you don’t fill your reserves, you’ll lose them.” Guillaume picked up the fork on her plate, scooped up some of the eggs, and lifted it to her mouth. “Not to mention the message it sends to other queens. They expect you to call more Blood. If you don’t, then you’re not stronger. You’re inviting an attack before you can build a larger power base. The Triskeles means nothing if you can’t hold it.”
Such a fucking legend. The last Templar knight, renowned Triune Executioner. Reduced to hand-feeding his queen on his knees. Explaining basic court etiquette to us all because I sure the fuck didn’t know either.
“I quite enjoy it,” he said lightly without looking over at me. “Believe me when I say I’d have cut my own head off before I’d ever lift a finger to feed Desideria.”
Shara let out a long breath ending on a fragile little sigh that twisted my heart into knots. “I don’t know what I’m doing, G.”
“You know what you need to do. You just need time and space to adjust to the idea.”
“The stakes are so fucking high. One wrong move, and we’re all fucked.”
He huffed out a low sound of amusement that managed to sound like his hell horse even though he was in his human form. “Which isn’t necessarily a bad thing, my queen.”
She rolled her eyes, but her lips twitched. “At least I feel better about not killing Marne, though I have to admit, I’ve been thinking about the Dauphine. I didn’t have time to deal with her before we received the summons to Rome, and then I had to help Helayna with her nest. I haven’t forgotten what that bitch did to Mom, though. The tricks Marne played on her are nothing like I wish I’d done. What if she finds out where Dad’s body is buried? Or what if she goes after my human friends?”
“One problem at a time.” He fed her another bite. “Let’s get your reserves taken care of. Your excellent consiliarius can arrange to have any physical bodies that might have been buried cremated, which will prevent any further manipulation of passed loved ones.”
She looked at Llewellyn and he immediately lifted his gaze up to hers, sadly shaking his head. “Forgive me, my queen, but I have no idea what happened to your mother’s body. She wouldn’t have left anything physical behind, even if she wasn’t under a geas. She was too smart to leave so much as a single strand of hair behind.”
Shara’s head tipped slightly, her eyes flaring with interest. “Her hair. I see it gleaming in your mind like black velvet sprinkled with stardust.”
His head tipped back, beams of light blazing from his eyes. An image of Esetta appeared above his head, so clear and perfect that it was like watching a movie. Only better because he was able to play all of his senses for us. Long, thick silken hair hung about her shoulders, down past her waist to the floor. My fingers remembered the sensation of burying into the thick, black mantle. The buzzing tingle of magic creeping up my arms just from touching it.
She smelled like her daughter—blowing desert sands beneath a glittering crescent moon. A secret oasis beside the goddess’ pyramid. But Esetta also smelled like sandalwood and spicy incense. Something floral and exotic that I couldn’t place.
Blue lotus. He didn’t say the word in our Blood bond, but petals tumbled through the vision of Esetta like large, delicate snowflakes.
Worse, we felt the gut-wrenching, piercing agony of her beauty he’d felt every time he looked at her. Knowing what she intended to do.
“She carried her power in her hair,” he said hoarsely. “No other queen had hair like her.”
Huge silver shears lifted toward her shining hair. Flinching, he closed his eyes, ending the vision before we witnessed her chopping off each shining strand.
