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Scowling—because he had to leave my side for even a minute—Rik gave firm alpha nudges to both Sekh and Guillaume in the bond before going with Nevarre.

Sekh rolled his eyes. “As if we’d be as bird-brained as your sibling over shopping and neglect our duty for even a second. Just bring me your best in black.”

“Same,” Guillaume said.

Gabriel scurried off and started pulling samples together.

My legs simultaneously felt like heavy concrete blocks—that were also crumbling apart. “I could stand to sit down for a minute…”

Sekh swept me into his arms. “Forgive me, my queen. Of course.”

Closing my eyes, I lay my head against his shoulder. Weariness made my thoughts slow and fuzzy. My fangs had retracted for now, but I still needed to feed. A lot.

Sekh sat down with me on his lap. I slipped my hand beneath his T-shirt, stroking the tight skin of his abdomen for a moment before pushing my nails into his stomach. Guillaume stood beside us. He pressed a kiss to my other palm and then slipped my arm around his waist, guiding my hand beneath the back of his shirt.

My fingers glided over the leather straps holding his blades in place. Over the longer sword down his spine. He must have untucked his shirt, giving me plenty of room to reach around him. My nails punctured his flank.

So good. They flowed into me, soothing the jagged edges of my hunger to something less demanding. Though I could still barely get my eyes open when Gabriel returned, his arms overloaded with pants, shirts, and jackets. I drifted in a blissful haze while they talked about waist and inseam and then sent the man back off for appropriate shoes and socks.

“Why am I so tired?”

Guillaume coughed lightly, as if he was trying not to laugh. “By my estimation, you singlehandedly killed over two thousand thralls, my queen. After eliminating one of the oldest Aima houses in Europe and freeing dozens of trapped queens to the Mother’s embrace. Of course you’re fucking tired. Even Shara fucking Isador needs to rest now and then.”

Oh. “Was it really that many?”

“Easily,” Sekh said. “I would have said nearly three thousand with how tightly they were packed into the street.”

“Legion,” I whispered, drifting again. “I need to go to New York soon. Stop them from spreading.”

Sekh’s lips brushed my temple. “One day at a time, my queen.”

“Are there tunnels and catacombs in London?”

Guillaume let out a low grunt. “Of course. Every major old-world city is built upon a maze of underground levels. Rome, Dublin, Istanbul.”

I sighed. “I guess Kora can take care of Rome.”

“I doubt the Dauphine wasted her resources in Rome when you were her target. New York City is definitely a concern, especially with the tower’s basement connecting into the dark layers of the city.”

Yawning so hard my jaw ached, I managed to say, “Maybe I can send Penelope to do some reconnaissance. Or some of her family.”

But not tonight. My brain was too fuzzy to find and separate out my rat’s tiny little bond with so much else in my head.

“Don’t let me take too much,” I murmured.

Sekh let out a husky laugh that vibrated my entire body. “Drain me fucking dry, Your Majesty.”

DAIRE

Picking my queen’s outfit was a lot of fucking pressure.

I’d missed helping her pick out her clothes, but to be honest, Nevarre was far better at it than me. If I fucked this up and picked out something tacky, he’d never let me hear the end of it, and I probably wouldn’t get the chance for another try.

I didn’t even need to shop for myself. Before leaving home, I’d dressed in a high-end black suit with a modern cut and a silk shirt to match Shara’s eyes. No tie because fuck anything tight around my neck, unless it was my lover’s fist or her hair.

:Can’t I just wear my plaid?: Ezra grumbled.

:Fuck no. No one wears plaid to dinner in Paris.: