“Samudra’s voice was so gentle, her waking mind heard it only as a playful whisper. She opened her eyes and saw the world around them grey with evening. Their fire was only a few smoldering ashes. Samudra propped up on his elbow, leaning over her, but not looking at her. He stared at the altar. She turned to follow his gaze with her own, and saw the snake. It was huge, rearing back to expose its death-pale belly. Its hood was spread wide and its tongue flicked in and out, tasting the air, tastin...g the fear that welled up in Natharie as she saw its shining black eyes. Samudra’s gaze flicked down, and Natharie’s did the same. The snake was not alone. Its mate lay full-length on the temple floor, twined in intimate communion with its fellow, who towered protectively over it, even as Samudra had risen over Natharie. Move, and I strike, the serpent seemed to say. Do not move, and I stride. “My sword,” breathed Samudra. “Your cap.” Natharie understood. She did not lift herself. On her belly, as if she were a snake herself, she slowly eased backward, moving less than an inch at a time.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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