An

Dierdre's attack was so sudden that had he not expected something of the sort Titus would have been slain.

Where she had hidden the knife he did not know, but suddenly it was flashing in her hand, streaking towards his throat even as she pressed her sweet body against him. Only his honed reflexes and his expectations of treachery saved him, his hand flashing up to intercept her stroke, seizing her slender wrist in an iron grip and bending it back. She screamed in pain and shock, her eyes wide with fear and anger, her other hand reaching to claw at his face.

He gripped her throat with his other hand, squeezing it hard as he sat up in the bath. Regan squealed in panic and scrambled out of the bath to cower with her twin, the two of them staring at the confrontation in the water. Dierdre's hand scrabbled at his wrist, trying to break his grip on her throat as her mouth gasped frantically, her eyes full of panic.

"This is your doing," Titus growled, looking at Agrona.

The bound Celtic queen said nothing, merely shook her head in denial, her eyes locked on her sister's plight, her face full of anxious fear. Titus growled and tightened his grip on Dierdre's throat as she dropped the dagger, her wide eyes silently begging for life.