Page 32 of Queen Takes Blood
The compulsion thrummed through my cold limbs. A call so strong that it had pulled me back from the land of the dead.
Dazed, it took me a few minutes to understand the situation unfolding before me. This queen was shockingly young despite her immense power. There was some discord among her Blood and alpha, and if I wasn’t mistaken, she’d just laid down a fresh blood circle for her nest.
No fucking wonder she’d been able to draw me back to the mortal plane. Though I was still dead and cold. I couldn’t imagine that she’d have much use for a Blood who couldn’t even feed her. Though as I watched her work her way through her Blood one by one…
I was certainly willing to give her anything that she wished, though I didn’t have much to offer.
“Nevarre.”
My eyes flared. She knew my name.
Jaws clenched, I fought back a wave of grief. Brigid had promised this day would come. I dropped to my knees before the queen and bowed my head. “I’m sorry, my queen. Forgive me. I’m not worthy of your service. I have no blood to offer.”
She cupped my cheek with her bleeding hand, and my stomach clenched with a vicious stab of hunger.
I hadn’t tasted Aima blood in decades. Let alone a queen’s.
Softly, she pressed her lips to mine and the vortex caught me again, sucking me down in a whirling spiral of power. The raven’s wings beat frantically in my head, feathers raining down, shrieking raucous cries. Lost in the pull of her kiss.
For one brief moment, I hovered on the edge of a precipice, staring down into an endless maw. I could throw myself back from the edge. I could save myself.
Why, though? To go back to the empty, cold land of the dead?
Perhaps I’d existed in the nothingness long enough for this queen to call my name, simply to allow her to inherit the Morrigan’s gift. She must have great need of Her shadowed wings. More than me.
I let myself fall into the vortex.Take what you need. Take it all.
The brief spark of life that had brought me to her side dimmed. My limbs were heavy and cold. Darkness closed. At last, I soared. Lighter than a feather, I didn’t need wings now.
Brigid.
The bluest eyes in the world. Her blazing sunset hair braided into a complex design around her head. Freckles sprinkled by the goddess across her cheeks. She smiled, her eyes shining like brilliant jewels lit by the noonday sun. A bright green field stretched out behind her and familiar branches arched over her head. Her tree, where she’d taught me to live again.
“Your queen calls.”
Startled, I looked back over my shoulder. The dark-haired queen held my limp body across her lap. My hair spilled around her like ink. I turned back to Brigid. “I’m dead.”
“That you are.” She nodded, her lips curving to reveal dimples in her cheeks. “Though you can live again. She’s powerful enough to call you back from death itself.”
“But—” I stared at her, shaken off balance by the calm, easy joy shining in her eyes. “I thought you were waiting for me.”
“Och, love, I am waiting beneath my tree just as I promised. Though there’s no hurry to fly to me. Not when you could serve a queen again.”
Guilt shredded me, even though part of my heart leaped at the thought of serving a queen again. Let alone a queen powerful enough to resurrect a dead Blood. “I love you.”
“And I love you, Nevarre. I always will. You’ll love her too, and I’ll love her simply because she makes you smile.”
The queen tugged on an invisible thread, reminding me of her power.
I could break that thread if I truly wanted to be free. I could stay here with Brigid.
Or I could wake in this queen’s arms and embrace the power she offered. Power the likes of which I’d never known.
Standing here with Brigid with one foot beyond the veil, I knew that I would love this queen. I would love her as much as Brigid, the woman who’d taken me in at my lowest hour and taught me how to live again. The queen’s heart blazed with certainty. She would only take Blood that she loved.
And she would love me. A love so strong that she could call me back from the grave and the other woman I loved.
Which felt wrong. A betrayal of all the love Brigid had given to me.
