The scent of burning torches, oil, and dust filled the encampment as Cleopatra tightened the straps of her bracers.
Around her, warriors prepared for the battle to come—sharpening blades, whispering prayers to the gods, murmuring strategies. The time for vengeance was near, and Cleopatra could feel it humming in her blood like an unspoken promise.
"Queen Cleopatra, the Lion has summoned you," a guard announced, stepping into the tent.
Cleopatra turned, brows furrowing. "Maahes?"
The guard nodded. "He requests your presence immediately."
She glanced back at her allies, who were finalizing their preparations. "I won’t be long," she assured them. "Continue without me."
No one questioned her—she had earned their trust, their loyalty. Without hesitation, she stepped out of the tent and into the moonlit night, the desert wind wrapping around her like a silent warning.
She was halfway across the encampment when it happened.
A cold hand clamped over her mouth, muffling her startled gasp. Another arm locked around her waist like a vice, dragging her backward into the darkness. Panic surged through her veins. She twisted, kicking and clawing, but the grip was unyielding. Her captor was too strong.
"Shh, little queen," a voice murmured against her ear, deep and laced with cruel amusement. "You don’t want to make this difficult."
Cleopatra froze.
She knew that voice.
A slow, terrible realization crept through her as she was forced around, her captor releasing his hold just enough for her to face him.
Her heart pounded violently against her ribs.
"Kadesh," she whispered, blood turning to ice in her veins.
The man before her smirked, his dark eyes gleaming under the moonlight like a jackal that had cornered its prey. He was dressed in black leather armor, his twin blades strapped to his back, his every movement calculated and lethal.
Kadesh.
The most feared assassin in all of Egypt.
Akhenaten’s deadliest weapon.
And now, he was standing before her.
Her pulse hammered. How? How had he found them?
"You look surprised," Kadesh mused, tilting his head as he studied her. "Surely you knew this day would come."
Cleopatra gritted her teeth. "How did you get in?"
A slow smile curved his lips. "You should be asking who let me in."
Realization hit her like a blade to the chest. Someone had betrayed them. Someone close.
Her mind reeled, trying to piece together who it could be, but she had no time—Kadesh moved swiftly, striking before she could react.
Cleopatra ducked, narrowly avoiding his fist as she twisted away. She reached for the dagger at her waist and slashed, but Kadesh caught her wrist midair.
"Not bad," he chuckled, tightening his grip. "But not good enough."
With terrifying strength, he wrenched her forward and slammed her against the nearest pillar. The impact stole the breath from her lungs, and before she could recover, Kadesh pinned her arms above her head, his body pressing into hers, trapping her.
She struggled, but he was immovable, his fingers digging into her wrists like iron shackles.
"Tell me, Cleopatra," he murmured, his breath fanning against her skin. "Did you really think you could rise from the ashes and take back what was lost?"
Her jaw clenched. "I don’t think," she spat. "I know."
Kadesh chuckled darkly. "That fire in your eyes—" he leaned in, his lips just beside her ear "—I almost regret having to put it out."
Her blood ran cold.
Before she could think, she wrenched one knee upward, aiming for his ribs. He dodged at the last second, but the movement loosened his hold just enough. Cleopatra seized the moment—she yanked one wrist free and drove her elbow into his face.
Kadesh stumbled back, but the amusement in his eyes never faded.
"Good," he purred, wiping a trickle of blood from his lip. "I was hoping you'd make this fun."
And then he attacked.
Cleopatra barely had time to react. He was too fast—faster than any opponent she had ever faced. She parried his strikes, deflecting one, dodging another, but she was already at a disadvantage. He had the upper hand in strength, in speed, in skill.
Still, she fought.
She fought because she had no other choice.
Kadesh moved with deadly precision, every step a calculated dance of destruction. His twin blades flashed in the moonlight as he struck again and again, forcing her backward, leaving her no room to counter.
Cleopatra was no stranger to battle. Maahes had trained her well, but this—this was something else.
Kadesh wasn’t just a fighter.
He was death itself.
And she was running out of options.
"Give up, little queen," he taunted, sidestepping her attempt to slash at his throat. "No one is coming to save you."
Her heart pounded, desperation clawing at her. Where were the guards? Where was Maahes?
She couldn’t hold out much longer.
And Kadesh knew it.
He struck one final time, a swift, merciless blow to her side. Pain exploded through her ribs as she staggered, gasping. The world blurred around her.
Before she could recover, he grabbed her by the throat and slammed her down onto the sand.
Her vision swam.
"You fought well," Kadesh murmured, almost as if he were impressed. "But this is where it ends."
Cleopatra struggled, her fingers clawing at his hand, but her strength was fading.
Kadesh smirked.
A strange sensation washed over her, cold and numbing. A whisper of power she didn’t understand.
Her body went still.
The last thing she saw was Kadesh’s wicked grin as everything faded to black.