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The cobra queen arched above her throne. Her massive hood darkened the dais, her fangs glistening like ivory swords. The blood ruby flashed on her head. She swayed back and forth, not quite transparent but shadowy and thin. A spiritual representation of the gift Shara carried. She hadn’t shifted. She didn’t need to. Not on Isis’ throne. From the gasps and whimpers of the onlookers, they saw the cobra too. Or maybe the reality was finally settling in.

There would be no escape today. Not from us. Not from Shara. Not from Isis.

The sphinx pair chose this moment to leap down off their pedestals and began tearing apart the bodies littering the floor. In seconds, they devoured the dead, as efficiently as Vore and Sekh had done cleanup before. Growling and rumbling, they crouched, staring with hunger at the milling queens and Blood before the dais.

I hoped to goddess Sekh could keep them in line. Surely some of these queens would survive to swear to Isador.

“Isesi,” Shara called out. “I’m finished with this one.”

The sphinx whirled and eagerly grabbed the dead queen’s ankle, dragging her off the dais. Her sister grabbed an arm, and they tore the dead queen in half, quickly gulping her down.

Shara gazed down at the five Damas siblings, on their knees, pale and weeping with terror. So fucking regal, my queen. Her eyes blazed with power like she was lit from within by the moon. The air crackled around her. The cobra queen swayed above her.

“Who’s next, Gina?” Shara’s words slurred slightly, her fangs still descended. Revealing her hunger—despite having drained a queen completely dry.

Gina passed out pieces of paper to each of the waiting queens.

The one on the end wadded the parchment up in her fist. “I won’t swear to such a murderer.”

Once upon a time, those words would have wounded my young queen’s delicate heart. Now, her lovely face hardened, and the cobra queen’s tail rattled like ominous drums on the stone. She looked at me. No words or command needed.

The sword sang in my hands as I took the queen’s head. Then her Blood.

Shara waited for the sphinxes to devour the dead and then she spoke, each word heavy with power and brutal intent. “I gave you every opportunity to leave before swearing to House Isador. Either you swear to uphold your oath to me in blood, or you die today. Your choice.”

“But she swore,” one of the queens whimpered. “You still killed her.”

“She swore every drop of blood to me and my house. Before Isis Herself. Even knowing she fully intended harm to me and mine.” Shara’s voice lowered, threaded with rage. The sphinxes snarled, tails lashing. “Did you think I wouldn’t know your treachery? I saw you all sitting at a table with Rosalind Valois and the Dauphine’s former Blood, who’d already desecrated the Mother’s blood by feeding on humans. You knew he was making a legion of thralls to attack my house. You did nothing to stop him. You did nothing to warn me. Yet you still came here today, planning to give me an oath of fealty. When every word you utter is a betrayal before the Mother of All.”

Her eyes shone brighter, glaring like two small suns. Her voice trembled with fury. The sphinxes attacked the remaining four sibling queens. A swath of deadly claws and fangs that needed no sword to deliver swift retribution.

Though the cobra queen’s shadowy form wavered. Changing shape. The hood flattened into a long head with many glistening crocodile teeth.

Ammit. The Devourer.

Rik laid his big hand on Shara’s shoulder, giving her a soothing squeeze. Hard enough I saw the flex of muscles across her cheek and felt the ache in her bond. Her head jerked toward him, her jaw tight. Then she softened. She closed her eyes for a moment and reached up to lay her fingers over his. The shadowy form shimmered and then exploded into a shower of sparks and glittering orbs hanging in the air like stars in the sky.

“Who’s next?”

20

SHARA

Rik squeezed my shoulder hard enough the muscle ached. But I relished the small pain, letting it ground me back in my body. My fangs still throbbed, my hunger as vicious as the sphinxes, completely untouched after draining Kimora. Hopefully I could control myself and not kill an innocent queen before taking her as my sibling. If any of these queens could be called innocent.

I very much did not want to settle in to feasting on the dead myself.

“Sorcha de Cestra,” Harvey said. “Daughter of Sequana.”

Her name sounded familiar, then as she stepped forward and dropped to her knees at the edge of the dais, I placed her as the spokesperson from yesterday. She trembled head to foot, her hands fisted together tightly as if in supplication. Nine grim-faced Blood surrounded her, crowded close, blades in hand, facing outward to protect her.

“Your Majesty,” her voice quavered. “Forgive me. I didn’t know. I swear before Sequana I never meant you any harm.”

:I scanned her yesterday,: Sekh said. :I didn’t see any trace of the master thrall in her past, other than general gatherings more than a century ago.:

“Carys?” I asked out loud.

“Eighty percent.”