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I was bathed in the traitor’s ending, which ironically marked my new beginning.
The cross I carved in his chest gushed a trail of blood as I entered the circle and threw his body at their feet.
“Sur tes genoux!”
I lowered to my knees while someone came to collect the corpse. As per tradition, it would be thrown into the snake pit to celebrate the fate I had missed.
Another person came behind me with a knife. I remained still, staring into the fire. They removed my shoes and cut off my sullied clothes until I was left in nothing but my black briefs and cross necklace.
The cold wind barely nipped at my skin.
The blood heating my veins kept me warm.
A second pair of hands fisted my hair and used a basin to pour holy water down my face, washing away the remnants of my kill.
Someone lodged a gun against the back of my head and I knew it was time to recite my oath.
My right hand was flipped palm up and the tip of a sharp knife winked in the night. Just from the calluses and the wedding ring sitting at the base of his knuckle, I knew it was my father. “Zeno Gianni De la Croix, you have demonstrated your innate devotion to our cause, shown this family complete loyalty, and have carried out every pursuit with honour. Do you swear to continue to uphold our pillars?”
“Oui.”
“Repeat after me.” Yves’s deep voice carried the oath into the night like a forbidden secret as he squeezed my wrist, urging me to follow.
“From this night onward, I swear on my life to protect, serve, and fulfill my duties as lord to my people. I will rule with honour and continue our legacy, for I am Seigneur Zeno Gianni De la Croix. With the blood in my veins, I pledge my allegiance until the day I die and beyond.”
Satisfactory echoes waged like a proud victory after war.
Yves’s knife dug into my palm in a sharp cut and droplets of my blood sprinkled onto an old testament, where all the previous seigneurs had signed their oaths.
I watched, fascinated, as my blood—the one everyone had deemed tainted—joined the pages of history. The shift could be felt within the circle of men. It was a pivoting point for the De la Croix dynasty.
My initiation marked the end of a blueblood era.
A low chant started pulsing in the woods as the men rallied together. “Seigneur Zeno. Seigneur Zeno. Seigneur Zeno.”
The chorus grew louder with each utterance of my name and the atmosphere gyrated with a primitive quality, feeding my killer instincts.
Yves closed my fist and delivered a fatherly clench that was packed with gratification.
The amber stone in my ring shone in the firelight.
Someone came behind me and placed a heavy gold crown on my head.
I rose to my feet and turned around to face my disciples.
A new reign had begun.
CHAPTER 42
Yours today, tomorrow, forever
Darla
Three weeks passed since I got discharged from the hospital and it was now nearing mid-July. My wound was healing fine, but I’d forever have a scar to highlight this epoch. I traced the puckered ring on my upper stomach, right under my breast, and gazed at my reflection in the mirror.
As of this morning, I was six weeks along.
I cradled my barely-there bump, marvelling at the thought of our growing baby. I had my first ultrasound yesterday, and I went alone since Zeno wasn’t in the city.
