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Cordelia’s eyes land on a spot behind me. We all turn in unison to find Rowan walking down the stairs. He looks different now, his presence more imposing, more magnetic. He’s dressed in a tailored black jacket without a shirt, the jacket trimmed with the same deep green as Cordelia’s. A silver serpent brooch gleams on his lapel, its eyes two tiny emeralds that seem to glow under the candlelight.

As he descends the stairs, the crowd parts instinctively, creating a path for him. He moves with the kind of confidence that only comes from knowing every step you take is yours to command.

When he reaches the dais, he turns to face the crowd, his gaze sweeping over the room. A smile curves his lips—not the playful grin I know, but something sharper, more dangerous. His eyes find mine briefly, and in that moment, I forget how to breathe.

Behind him, a woman with dark curls steps forward, deftly removing his jacket. Gasps ripple through the hall as a sliver of the serpent tattoos peeks out along his sides, accentuating the lean lines of his abdomen, the perfect V of muscle disappearing below the waistband of his pants.

I catch the whispered admiration in the crowd. The lustful glances aimed his way. It sends a pang of jealousy through me, but I push it aside. My gaze finds the tattoo over his heart instead—XIX VI.

“Now, as you know,” Cordelia continues, “As you know, The Ritual is a long-practiced custom among The Snake. Every Head must be chosen—claimed—by the snake itself.”

Halle leans in closer, her voice low. “Do you know what’s going on?”

“He’s going to be bitten by a snake,” Xander offers, his smirk widening, as if he’s enjoying our unease.

“What?” Halle and I whisper in unison.

“Don’t worry,” Hayden chimes in. “It’s not poisonous. This is all just symbolic.”

I force my gaze back to Rowan as the woman unveils a golden dome, revealing a coiled serpent. Its black and brown scales gleam like polished gems under the lights, its head lifting to survey the room. The air seems to still, the weight of the moment pressing down on all of us.

Rowan steps forward, lowering himself onto the alabaster stone. He sits with a regal stillness, his face composed, unflinching as the snake is lifted toward him.

My chest tightens, my instincts screaming to intervene, but I don’t move. This is what he wants, what he’s worked for.

The snake slithers over his shoulder, its forked tongue flicking against his skin as if tasting him first. Time stretches unbearably until, with a sudden, decisive movement, it strikes. Its sharp teeth sink into the flesh just below his collarbone.

I gasp, the sound lost in the collective exhale of the crowd. My hand flies to my mouth as a trickle of blood snakes its way down his chest. But Rowan doesn’t flinch, completely emotionless.

“The snake has accepted!” Cordelia’s voice booms, her joy uncontained. “Please help me in welcoming the new Head of The Snake.”

Cordelia drops to her knees, and one by one, the crowd follows, their heads bowing in reverence. The sound of silk and wool brushing against the stone fills the air.

Rowan’s gaze lifts to mine, and despite the sea of bowed heads, I feel like he’s looking directly at me. A small, knowing smile curves his lips. Then, without warning, he steps off the dais and begins walking toward me.

A ripple of murmurs follows his movements, confusion mingling with awe.

“What is he doing?” Halle whispers.

I can’t speak.

My heart pounds as he stops before me, his presence filling every inch of my awareness.

“Rowan?” I ask softly.

He doesn’t answer. Instead, hekneelsbefore me.

The hall falls utterly silent as he looks up at me, his smile softening, eyes filled with adoration. “I may lead The Snake, but you lead me,” he says, his voice steady.

Heat rushes to my face as murmurs erupt around us. Rowan rises gracefully, turning to address the room. His voice carries like thunder breaking across the hall. “I am honoured to be your Head, and I will do everything in my power to earn your loyalty and your trust, starting now. If you follow me, you follow because you believe in what we can build together. Not because of fear. Not because of tradition.” He pauses, his gaze sweeping the hall, eyes defiant and daring. “The Snake is reborn today, and with it, so are we.”

Slowly, the murmurs die down. One by one, the members of The Snake bow their heads again—not in forced submission, but in acknowledgment of something greater. I don’t know when they stand because Rowan pulls me into a kiss that drowns out everything else. I’m pretty sure I hear cheers from the crowd, but my world narrows to just him.

“So much for me staying away from The Snake,” I whisper, breathless.

He laughs. “It’s important everyone knows about you, so they know not to fuck with what’s mine.”

I smile, but a weird apprehension sits in my chest. Maybe they’ll know not to fuck with me, but they’ll also know I’m a point of weakness for him.