Page 57 of Queen Takes Blood
Every word slammed into me like foot-long spikes, nailing me to her will. Binding me to complete the task she set for me. “I hear and obey, my queen.”
Stiffly, I started to rise, but she laid her hand on my shoulder, stilling me with a touch. With her other hand, she picked up a pair of heavy shears, large enough to snap through a limb. “You carry my blood, Llewellyn Isador, but more, you carry my love.” She snipped a piece of her glorious hair, and the strands tightened around my throat, braiding into a thick choker. “Now you carry a memento of my power, too.”
Startled, I opened my mouth to object but it was too late. Tears trickled down my cheeks, even as I let my head drop back for a moment, relishing the feel of her collar on my throat. The smell of incense and lotus in every strand reminding me of her scent. Remembering the velvety spread of her hair over my chest or trailing over my thighs. “It’s too precious, my queen.”
“Which is why you must carry a piece of it with you.” She cupped my cheeks in both hands and pressed her mouth to mine. A voracious, anguished kiss, her tongue tangling with mine one last time. “Now fly, my love, before I fail to accomplish the Great One’s plans in order to keep you.”
Every muscle in my body rebelled. My bones ached, threatening to shatter in objection. But I stood. Bowed low to my queen. And then strode to the door. My gryphon shrieked, rending me with vicious talons, unable to bear the loss. But she had set me to a task, and I would never fail her.
Though I couldn’t help but pause at the door, looking back at her one last time. “I may be mated to House Isador, but I loveyou, Esetta. Unto death and beyond, forever.”
She lifted the shears back to her hair. “And I love you, Lew. Unto death and beyond, forever. May we be reunited at Isis’ feet.”
A thick hank of her shining hair fell to the floor. Another.
The entire building quivered around us, as if it could feel the loss of every single strand and knew exactly what it represented. Usually her skin gleamed like pearly moonlight, but now her shining moon dimmed. The glossy strands shorn from her head lay limp and dull. Just a pile of discarded clippings.
Piece by piece, she dismantled everything Esetta—and House Isador—stood for.
And I couldn’t bear to watch.
31
LLEWELLYN
Iran on foot down the streets of Manhattan as if a horde of Triune queens were after me. Unable to linger outside the Isador mansion for fear the entire building would sink into the earth or burst into flame. Terrified to feel what would come next.
Esetta still lived. I could still feel her bond, though she had muted it so much that I couldn’t access her mind at all. Rather than the flaming river of power that usually gleamed in my mind, her bond shrank to a small dark corner. A mere crack in the earth, revealing only a faint glow of molten rock deep below the surface.
She won’t die for at least nine months. Long enough for her heir to be conceived and delivered. I still have time.
Skye Tower dominated the skyline, just blocks away from Esetta’s house. She’d never minded the size difference between the hundred-plus-story residential tower and her much smaller building that had once been an exclusive hotel on the edge of Central Park. Deep down, I think she loved to rub Keisha’s nose in her presence as often as possible over the years as she renovated the property to suit her. Esetta followed perfect Triune protocol and always notified House Skye of her desire to be inside the other queen’s territory. Again and again and again.
Funny enough, Keisha Skye never refused her, either. It would have been seen by the other queens as a grave insult to the much older and more prominent house. Though in all the trips we’d made between London and New York City, we’d never actually gone to Skye Tower.
Two guards stood at the exterior door. I would have simply blurred past them if they were human. They looked up—way up—and gulped when they met my eyes. I must look as deranged as I felt, my eyes burning up in my skull, my beast thrashing inside me with anguished horror at what Esetta was doing.
“I have a message for Her Majesty Keisha Skye,” I forced the words out, my throat raw as if the choker of my queen’s hair was strangling me.
“From who?” One of the guards asked.
Some kind of cat from his scent. He wasn’t impressive, either in power or muscle. If I didn’t need to see his queen as quickly as possible, I’d simply gut the man and be done. “House Isador. It’s urgent.”
“Fuck,” the other guard muttered, giving me a dark look. Wolf, I thought. Also not very strong. I’d wager neither of them were Blood. “Who are you?”
“Llewellyn Isador.”
They didn’t seem to know me by name, which made my gryphon shriek at the insult. A queen’s alpha came in person to see their queen, and they didn’t have the barest knowledge of court politics to even recognize me or understand what that meant.
The cat’s eyes flickered as he passed along my name and request to a higher sib through his bond. Hopefully a Blood. Someone who could actually get me into the queen’s court.
His eyes widened. “Vega’s coming down to talk to you.”
I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. I would expect no less than the queen’s alpha to come down and talk to me personally. I would have done the same if she’d come to House Isador for some reason. It wasn’t common for an alpha to be away from their queen for any reason.
I’d never met Vega personally though I’d seen her from afar. Short, choppy dark hair buzzed tight around her ears. Silver piercings in her eyebrow, nostril, and bottom lip. Broad shouldered, she was a tall woman at almost six feet.
But I was a foot taller and carried the prestige of House Isador and my queen’s powerful blood. I could have played a staring game with her—and won easily—but I needed to get inside without pissing her off.
