Then her eyes opened, landing on Rynna. The screech that followed ripped through the air, shrill and human in a way that meant nothing now.
Rynna frowned, planting her feet wide as she placed her hands on her hips.
“You are mine,” she said, her voice flat. “Nod that you understand.”
The other started to nod—just barely—then froze.
“My name is Ankhira.” Her eyes sharpened. “And I am Queen of this land.”
“I don’t give a fuck who you are or who you were.” Rynna sniffed. “From this moment on, you are mine.” Her voice rang with command. “Do you understand?”
Ankhira’s expression wavered before the shock receded.
“You are nobody. I am Queen of these lands, Mother of Vampires.” She regained her feet, spine drawn tall, chin tilting upward. “You will kneel, now, servant!”
Rynna laughed, and the queen barely blinked before Rynna struck, her hand connecting with Ankhira’s face in a brutal crack.
The queen’s body whipped sideways, lifted clean off her feet, and slammed into a half-collapsed merchant stall on the other end of the square. Wood splintered and canvas tore before the wreckage swallowed her whole.
“You are only what I allow or desire you to be.” Rynna let her hand fall to her side.
Then she moved. The distance between them vanished, and her fingers tangled in Ankhira’s hair. With a yank, she hauled the woman from the wreckage like dead weight.
“Show me you understand.” Rynna tightened her grip and forced Ankhira’s head up, jerking her face level with her own.
For a moment, Ankhira just hung there, rasping, half-suspended from Rynna’s hand. Then, her face changed. Her body shuddered, and panic dawned in her eyes, spreading like a stain.
She saw the truth. The blood that had made her strong now answered to another.
“You may have been the Mother, bitch.” Rynna released her with a flick of her wrist, letting Ankhira drop. “But I am now Queen. You will kneel, obey, and know the taste of pain.”
For a moment, Ankhira resisted the command, her entire body tensing with refusal. One breath. Two. Four. Five. Six. Then—defeat.
Ankhira bent at the waist, her limbs stiff and jerky.
“Now, go and ready a bed for me.” Rynna’s eyes lifted to the ridge above the city, where the estate loomed in shadowed silence.
Ankhira’s jaw worked as if she could refuse, before her feet lurched on their own, each step up the hill dragging behind it the weight of resistance, crushed beneath the pull of compulsion. Her spine arched, straining against the force, but her body kept climbing—obedient.
Rynna watched until the other ducked into the shadows and was gone.
She swallowed, and the city remained quiet.
But behind shuttered windows and broken stalls, hearts still thudded. Fear clung to the air, sharp enough to taste. And blood hummed beneath every hidden breast around her. She could hear it. Smell it. It coiled under her senses, heady and electric. Her hands shook at her sides, the queen’s blood still buzzing through her veins.
Rynna blinked hard, and the scent of life threatened to devour her. There were so many of them.
She staggered back. It was too much. Her lungs refused to work; she couldn’t think. The part of her that had bent Ankhira to her knees now brayed within her, ravenous for more.
Fuck.She swallowed hard.I have to get out of here.
She spun, legs already flexing to run. But movement caught at the edge of her vision.
One of the doors burst open, and a blacksmith thundered out, hammer raised high. “Begon demon!” he thundered.
Her nails dug into her palms. She wanted to warn him. To run. To stop. But her lips parted, and only the Hunger answered.
Motion blurred.
