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T he throb in her back was like nothing Adira had ever experienced, but it paled in comparison to the fury she felt.

She pushed up to her knees, gasping for breath against the pain as she tried to reach whatever that bitch had stabbed her with. She could just touch it with her fingertips, but couldn’t get a grip.

In her agony, her outrage, she screamed again, stopping only when the door burst open.

“By the Mother, Adira! What’s happened to you?” Dermond dropped to one knee at her side, clutching uselessly at her arm, one hand sliding down her back.

“I’ve been stabbed, you idiot! What does it look like?”

“It looks like a kitchen knife,” Flynn stated quietly, entering and dropping to her side.

He pulled the utensil from her back, eliciting another scream of agony she couldn’t hold back.

“Who’s done this to you? The girl?” Flynn pressed his hand tightly against her back, leaning her body against his. “Get me a towel, Dermond. Can’t you see she’s bleeding?”

Adira rested her forehead on Flynn’s shoulder, grateful to have him here to deal with Dermond.

“Not the girl. Her sister. She’s here. As you warned.” The pain made it hard to speak. The white-hot fury made it difficult to think. “Get them. Get them both.”

She’d have them hold that troublesome bitch down when they caught her. Make her watch her sister’s agony as Leah healed what she had done. See how she liked watching her own sister writhe on the floor as she felt the burn of a knife blade sink into her back.

“You go after them,” Flynn ordered when Dermond handed him a towel. “I’ll get Adira to the helicopter. I hear it coming in now. If you think you can handle both of them, that is.”

Dermond growled his rage, hesitating only a moment before he started for the door, his face grim with his intent.

“Alive, Dermond!” Adira forced the words through gritted teeth. “I want them alive. Both of them.”

“But… but, she hurt you,” he stammered, staring down at his blood-covered hand.

“You heard your queen.” Flynn stood, lifting her in his arms. “You have your orders. She wants the women alive. We didn’t pass them on the way here so they must have gone up to the servant’s floor. Start there.”

Dermond pulled a weapon from his shoulder harness as he ran from the room ahead of them. She would have to depend on him to catch her valuable prey while Flynn carried her downstairs and out to the back of the mansion.

“When Dermond brings them to you, they’ll need to be taught they can’t get away with attacking you again.”

“Yes,” she whispered, allowing her cheek to rest against Flynn’s broad shoulder. She’d made the right decision earlier. Dermond might be the more beautiful of the two, but Flynn was more intelligent. More cunning. More of what she needed at her side.

She was their queen now, as she always should have been, though Reynard had denied her that honor. He’d held it over her head, out of her reach, to keep her in her place. To remind her of her status. To excuse his abuse of her.

All that was changed now. Reynard was gone and she’d never serve as anyone’s underling again. She’d be the one to mete out humiliation and punishment. She’d be the one to deny favors. Or to grant them when she chose.

“Perhaps I’ll leave their punishment to you, Flynn. So long as they’re undamaged for my purposes.” Undamaged and able to produce litter after litter of magically gifted mongrels, all for her use.

All to add to her power.

She felt better already.