Page 70

Carla

I stare at all the men bowed before me, my mind struggling to process what’s happening. Two hundred vampires—an actual army—all kneeling in perfect unison, heads bowed in respect. To me. When Amari mentioned an army, this isn’t what I pictured at all.

I put a finger to my lips, looking around nervously, unsure what to do or say. I step down the porch stairs but immediately gravitate to Amari, leaning into him like he’s my only anchor in this strange new reality.

Amari chuckles and wraps an arm around me, pulling me close against his side. The steady presence of him grounds me as he exchanges a look with Bobby.

“Bobby, take the men to our plot of land,” Amari says, his voice calm and assured, the tone of someone used to being obeyed.

“It’s just a few miles outside of the community.

Levi from House of Zorah should already be there waiting for you with the floor plans so the men can set up and start breaking ground. ”

Bobby gives me another salute, then turns to address the kneeling vampires.

“Medina Shadow! Rise!” he commands.

I gasp as they all stand simultaneously, a perfect wave of synchronized movement. Their discipline is incredible—not a single person out of step, every motion perfectly coordinated as if they share a single mind.

“Formation!” Bobby barks. “Right face! Forward march!”

The vampires pivot in unison, forming neat rows before marching away from the patrol cabin. Their boots and shoes thump against the ground in perfect rhythm, creating a hypnotic cadence that fades as they disappear into the forest.

Bobby returns to stand before us, waiting for his next order. Amari’s eyes remain fixed on me, studying my reaction rather than looking at his lieutenant.

“I have a new request,” Amari says, his fingers absently stroking my waist.

“I’m here to serve,” Bobby responds promptly.

“Brookstone and Blackburn Enterprises...” Amari’s voice hardens. “They produce a lot of propaganda to the media. Start the process of taking that company down.”

Bobby’s face breaks into a grin. “Right on,” he says, raising his fist slightly.

I relax against Amari, feeling oddly safe despite the fact that he’s just ordered what sounds like corporate warfare. The casual way they discuss dismantling a major company should probably alarm me, but after what Alexis did to Verde and Petra, I can’t bring myself to feel any sympathy.

Bobby bows his head to me again. “It was a pleasure meeting you, my queen.”

I try to return his Black Panther salute, raising my fist awkwardly, but it’s a poor imitation. Bobby just bows his head again and smiles, kindly ignoring my clumsy attempt.

“Looks like I’ve got a company to run,” he says, adjusting his suit.

“Stay Black and stay proud,” Amari tells him.

Bobby turns away with a final salute, then walks back to his SUV. He climbs inside and starts the engine, turning the vehicle around and driving off, leaving Amari and me alone.

I glance toward the forest and spot the familiar glow of my children’s eyes in the darkness among the trees. Even in daylight, they remain partially hidden, watching us from the shadows. Amari follows my gaze and smiles.

“Children, I hope you like your new brothers,” he calls out. “They will be good to you. Just ask Kemnebi.”

“How did they feel about Kemnebi?” I ask, curious about how my little lost one integrated with Amari’s coven.

“He’s just a magical creature to them,” Amari explains. “Kemnebi has helped them a few times in assignments I’ve given them.”

I narrow my eyes at him. “So you made my child a spy?”

Amari shrugs, completely unapologetic. “Kemnebi actually loves watching over and reporting back with images. Kind of makes him proud, like he’s supporting the cause.”

I stare at him for a moment, shaking my head in disbelief. “Wow, you really are something special.”

He pulls my hand to his lips, gently kissing the back of it. “Come on, let me show you that I know how to make eggs.”

Amari leads me back toward the cabin but suddenly stops, looking down at me with an expression I can’t quite read—almost nervous, which is unusual for him.

“What?” I ask, confused by his hesitation.

“I’m not trying to be controlling or anything,” he says carefully, “but I don’t have an appreciation for pork.”

I roll my eyes and burst out laughing. The sound starts as a chuckle and builds until I’m doubled over, tears gathering in the corners of my eyes.

Amari takes a step back, glaring at me, clearly offended. “I know times are different, and I’m not a Muslim anymore so I’m not under the Muslim law, but I still respect the customs.” He adjusts his tie, his movements stiff and defensive.

I finally calm down, wiping tears from my eyes. “You paid no attention when we made that quick shopping trip in the market for groceries, did you?”

Amari stares at me, his brow furrowed. “No, I didn’t. But I saw you bought a pack of bacon.”

“That was turkey bacon,” I tell him, trying not to start laughing again.

“Oh.” He clears his throat, looking slightly embarrassed.

“I knew you were a former Muslim,” I explain, “so you probably wouldn’t be able to stand the sight of it. Plus, I don’t eat pork. At all.”

Amari’s expression softens into a smile, the tension in his shoulders easing.

I place my hands on my hips, deciding to get sassy with him. “Well, since you like to make assumptions?—”

“Carla, I didn’t mean—” he starts, but I cut him off, holding up my hand playfully.

“You’ll be rubbing my feet while I eat,” I declare.

Amari gets right in my face, staring so intently that I drop my hands from my hips, suddenly nervous under his golden gaze.

“Um, I was just joking, Amari.”

He grins, the predatory look transforming into something warmer. “I was hoping you weren’t, because I’ll gladly get on my knees and do what you command of me.” He bows his head slightly. “My queen.”

“Please stop calling me that,” I scoff. “I’m not a queen.”

“But oh, you couldn’t be more wrong,” he says, grabbing my wrist gently and pulling me into the cabin. “You are a queen. Queen of Spiders. Queen of Medina Shadow Coven.”

Inside, Amari takes off his suit jacket and rolls up his sleeves before heading into the kitchen to start making breakfast. I wander around the cabin, eventually sitting down at his desk in the corner by the window, looking at the computer screen.

I know how to use a computer—I work with one all the time at the station—but the one Amari has seems more. .. fancy.

I notice a phone by his mouse, seemingly new, and pick it up. Looking over at Amari, who’s busy cracking eggs into a bowl, I narrow my eyes at the device and tap the screen. What I see nearly makes me melt in my chair.

It’s me. I’m his wallpaper.

He took a picture of me while I was sleeping. I look like hell—hair wild, mouth slightly open, drool probably visible—but he saved it anyway. I make a mental note to convince him to take a different one later, preferably when I’m conscious and presentable.

I slump back in the chair, the reality of my situation hitting me all at once.

This is real. Really real. I’ve got an army of vampires who think of me as their queen.

After centuries of fighting for acceptance, I now have a community of vampires who will not only protect me and respect me, but maybe even actually like and enjoy my company.

Emotions well up inside me, and I sniffle, fighting back tears. Fate not only answered my prayers by giving me a fated mate, but she also gave me the acceptance I’ve craved for so long.

Thank you, Mother Fate.

I sit there for a moment, just processing my emotions, but look up when Amari comes around from the kitchen, holding a plate and a glass of orange juice. I stand and walk over to the lounge chair, sitting down as he sets the plate on my lap and places the glass on the end table beside me.

Then, to my surprise, he drops to his knees in front of me and begins pulling off my shoes. I try to pull my feet away, but he grips my ankle firmly, holding me in place.

“What are you doing?” I ask, though I already know the answer.

“Fulfilling my queen’s command,” he says with a smirk.

His thumbs press into the arch of my foot, and I nearly moan at the sensation. I never realized how much tension I carried there until this moment. His strong fingers work magic, pressing and kneading in all the right places, finding knots I didn’t know existed and gently working them out.

“Eat,” he encourages, nodding toward the plate.

I take a bite of the eggs—perfectly fluffy, with just the right amount of salt and pepper—while he continues to massage my feet. The pressure of his thumbs against my sole sends waves of pleasure up my leg, making my toes curl involuntarily.

“I didn’t realize you still held onto your customs from when you were human,” I say between bites of turkey bacon.

“Not all of them,” Amari admits, his fingers moving to work on my other foot. “But some things just stuck with me.”

I think of his well-documented sexual history—community dick for centuries—but keep that observation to myself.

“I don’t disrespect anyone with a different viewpoint,” he continues. “Your life is your own, and what one chooses to put into their body is not my business.” His eyes meet mine, serious and sincere. “My business is you, Carla. Our children—Medina Shadow, and our arachnids.”

I smile, touched by his words and the easy way he includes my children in his life.

“I’m nervous about meeting Angie tonight,” I admit, setting down my fork. “About what information she might have for us.” I pick up my juice and take a long drink before continuing. “Something just feels off.”

Amari looks up at me, his hands pausing on my foot.

I put my plate down and finish my juice, setting the empty glass beside it.

“I’m thankful that you got Verde and Petra back so they could finally be put to rest, but something tells me this isn’t the end of Alexis.

She has my blood, and there were body parts missing from my children when you returned them.

Limbs, organs, and their fangs.” I swallow hard, forcing the words out.

“I want to know what she’s doing with them. ”

“I’ve gotten as much intel on them as I could,” Amari says, frustration etched into every word. “But there’s a chamber in their lab that’s so off-limits, my people couldn’t get in there no matter how much they tried.”

“I’m almost tempted to send one of my children,” I say, the idea forming as I speak. “They can easily hide in the smallest spaces and go undetected, but I’m afraid I’d be sending them to their deaths if I did that.”

“No,” Amari says firmly. “Don’t worry about that.

Let Bobby keep finding ways to infiltrate.

” His hands resume their gentle massage.

“While it may take longer, I’d rather the children stay here where they’re safe.

Humans have figured out how to kill them, and I respect Damon and Amir for pulling you and our children off the border immediately once Verde and Petra were killed. ”

I sigh, knowing he’s right but still feeling the urge to do something, anything, to protect my family. “Why am I nervous about you meeting Angie?” I ask, more to myself than to him. “The children still haven’t lifted the veil, so maybe it’s not just about you. It’s something else.”

“What’s bothering you?” Amari asks, his thumbs pressing into a particularly tender spot on my heel.

“I’m worried because of the memory of Tabatha,” I admit. “I wonder what happened to her.”

“I know for a fact that Aya killed the majority of the Blackwood witches,” Amari says. “Seeing you, Anora, and now your cousin Angie speaks volumes to the fact that maybe some lived.”

“I was born of Fate, and so was Anora,” I point out. “But Angie wasn’t. She’s actually from the bloodline.”

“How do you feel about that?” he asks, his eyes studying my face.

“Isolated,” I admit. “I don’t have a real bloodline to fall under, and I can’t get acceptance from other supernaturals. It’s lonely.”

Amari looks up at me, still rubbing my feet. “Not anymore.”

I smile down at him, a gentle warmth flowing through me that has nothing to do with the foot massage. “Right. Not anymore, thanks to you.”

I pull my feet out of his hands and lean down, kissing him. The angle is awkward, and I lose my balance, tumbling off the chair with a giggle. I land in his lap, not caring that I’ve probably crushed him, and deepen the kiss.

Amari wraps his arms around me, holding me close. “I could get used to this,” he murmurs against my lips. “Being loved by such a magnificent woman.”

I kiss him again, pouring all my emotions into it. “You make me feel safe,” I tell him when we finally break apart. “You make me feel wanted and loved.”

“Always,” he promises, his eyes serious.

As I rest my head against him, listening to the steady beat of his heart—his heart that beats for me—I wonder how he’ll feel about Angie. She just might be the one in-law he doesn’t get along with.

The thought makes me tense slightly. Angie is direct to a fault, blunt in a way that often comes across as rude.

She has no filter, no sense of social niceties.

And she has about as much patience for my children as the average human has for a cockroach in their kitchen.

But she’s family—my only living blood relative besides her children and Anora—and I need her help.