Page 15 of Queen Takes Blood
The queen of Rome would not be pleased in the slightest to learn another queen had called the Executioner as Blood.
Holy fuck. If she took me as Blood, this war might very well rival the Last Crusade.
With a small pocketknife in her hand, she gestured to the door. “Get. Out.”
“My queen—”
Her eyes burned hotter, black holes sucking the stars to their destruction. She could crush me with a thought—if she only knew it. “I’m not your queen! You won’t have him. Do you hear me? You won’t lay a finger on him. You’ll turn around and march straight out my door.”
Standing, her alpha was easily the biggest Blood I’d ever seen, even without shifting. Though that wouldn’t have stopped me from killing him in my former life. “You should hear him out.”
Her mouth dropped open with shock. “You want me to accept him? Even if he kills you?”
Still on my stomach, I replied quickly, “I’ll swear any oath you ask of me, my queen. I’ll swear to never touch your alpha, any of your Blood, whatever you wish. If you only allow me to stay in your service.”
“Fuck you and fuck your oaths. Why should I trust you, a man I don’t know, just because you swear you won’t hurt my Blood? Why?”
Knives twisted in my stomach. The little amount of blood that I still possessed iced in my veins. If she didn’t understand what I offered… “You question my honor?”
Her alpha stepped closer and bent down, offering me his hand. “She doesn’t know who or what you are, since she wasn’t raised in a nest among us. I would not question your honor nor your word.”
A brave Blood, I’d give him that. He didn’t have my oath yet. I took his hand and stood, though I didn’t release him. So fucking young, but strong, pumped up with massive muscles and blazing power. The queen had fed him deeply and well. I could only hope her blood could do as much for me. Even if she returned me to a shadow of my former strength, I’d serve her. Gladly.
“Alrik Isador,” the alpha said.
I would have liked to know his birth House’s name as well, but it wasn’t my place to correct him. Yet. Though I would demonstrate the appropriate way for a younger Blood to meet an older Blood. “Guillaume de Payne, born of House Ashere.”
Nodding, he turned to the queen and held his hand out to her. Gripping his hand, she came closer, her eyes narrowed, her lips a harsh slant. “My queen, Shara Isador.”
She still held the knife in her right hand. “I thought all Blood took their queen’s house name.”
This close to her, my hunger flared and hammered inside me, demanding to be quenched. It took all my considerable years to keep myself under control. “They do, unless they’re me. I’ve never taken a queen’s name, but I’m willing for you.”
“Why?”
Another flash of respect sliced through me. I loved that she didn’t pretend to be anything that she wasn’t. She knew she didn’t know and didn’t care that we knew of that ignorance. Her honesty was refreshing—though it would get us crucified in Rome. “Because no queen commands me to come to you. I come freely to your call. I’ll accept your name. I’ll accept your alpha.”
She focused that impressive power on me. “Why?”
My knees trembled, my bones crumbling beneath her force. Such power. Goddess. Every breath brought her power into my lungs. Her scent. My eyelids fluttered. Blowing desert sands, a pyramid in the distance, her blood a sweet oasis, quenching…
Her blood. I inhaled again, breathing that scent deeper, particles of her blood already sinking into my starved cells. She wasn’t injured yet her blood was on the air. My eyes flared wide, and I focused on her alpha. “She’s breeding. Young, yet laden with power, without a nest of her own, and only two inexperienced Blood to guard her. And you haven’t killed me on sight? You’re either a fool, or…”
I couldn’t say it aloud. He certainly wasn’t a fool.
I was the fool. I had actually hesitated in coming to this queen’s side. This young Triune-level queen who was already unconsciously displaying her ability to produce an Isador heir. If Marne Ceresa knew…
She would destroy Shara. Now. Before she could gain any more power. Before she could even think to take her rightful seat at the Triune.
Or… knock Marne Ceresa out of her chair for good.
Shara Isador needed the Executioner at her side, or she’d be dead before she could even build her own nest.
My honor didn’t impress her. Nor did my age, name, or reputation. She would stand against me to defend her impressive alpha with a tiny knife in her hand. That spoke of love and loyalty the likes of which I had never known.
Perhaps she needed a larger demonstration of what I offered. A grand gesture that would show her what kind of Blood I could be for her. I was in no shape to kill her enemies, not yet. But if she drank from me…
Even a swallow of my blood, and she’d gain the headless knight’s imperviousness to injury and death. A gift that she would desperately need in the Triune Crusade.
