But I had no interest in explaining any of this to this son and, based on the rage simmering behind his dark eyes, he had no interest in hearing anything I had to say.

He leaned closer; his breath-it smelled of spearmint-stirred my hair. "What about you, Zery? You ever curse your mother?"

Then he pulled back and his hand moved, from my waist to the back of my neck. . to one of my tattoos. . if he touched the others I'd desert my submissive act.

"You wear Artemis's crescent, but do you follow her, Zery? Really?" His fingers brushed over my skin.

The tattoo was a gift, one I'd received when I'd accepted my role as queen. It tied me to Artemis, awakened some of her strengths inside me. All queens had them, high priestesses too, although theirs was on the inside of one wrist.

His fingers touched both the ink and the magic buried there; a tingle swept through my body.

Another surprise.

I hid my reaction.

His fingers moved again. Somehow, without being able to see the tattoo, he was tracing its border.

A shiver erupted from my core. I gritted my teeth.

He cocked his head. "You really don't let people get close, do you? Have you ever? Maybe that's what's wrong with the Amazons. . what they need to change." He leaned in. This time his lips brushed my ear. I stood still. I could take him down at any moment. Knowing that was enough, gave me the patience to stand there and listen. . to learn. I hoped to get him to talk more, to give me a clue how many of the sons watched us and where they lived. And then, after I stole the baby back, I would kill him. He and his fellow son had stolen one of our own-he couldn't live, not after that.