Tearing my attention away from my mate and him, I focused on delivering much-needed discipline to this male. The impact of the third strike vibrated all the way up my arms, and a crack filled the air around us. He cried out the number, chest heaving. The other two tightened their hold on him as he slumped.

My punishments were always harsher than the rest. It took far less strikes for me to get my point across.

“Rokath,” Assyria whispered in my mind, but the plea lacked all animosity. More than anything, it sounded wanton.

I twisted to deliver the fourth blow. Air whooshed from the male’s lungs as the flat collided with his back. With a jerk of my chin, I gave the two holding him permission to release him.

He collapsed onto the ground in front of him, sweat dripping onto the dirt beside his hands. The other three dropped to one knee and rested their foreheads on their forearms.

“Finish out your shift and then ensure he is seen by the healer,” I growled, buckling my sheath to my armor once again.

“Yes, Halálhívó,” they said in unison. None of them rose as I faced Assyria again. I had expected rage to reign on her features, but what I saw there instead surprised me in the best way.

A rosy color swept across her cheeks, and her lips were slightly parted as she stared at me. Those devious burgundy eyes had darkened, and they raked over me as I closed the distance between us. If I hadn’t been so furious, I might have allowed a malicious smirk to curve my lips.

She liked watching that. I tested the bond for her thoughts. Pleasure curled through me. It was my demonstration of what I would do for her that had desire coursing through her veins. The dark, primal parts of me loved that and wanted to do it again.

“Let’s go,” I ordered her. She blinked up at me, those dark lashes brushing against her cheekbones before she shook herself out of the rapturous state she’d been in.

I didn’t bother looking back at the soldiers, certain that I’d proved my point and the moment we were out of sight they’d arrange themselves accordingly. Assyria remained close to my side all through the camp, and when we reached our tent, she ducked inside and settled herself on the bed.

I tied the flaps behind us, ensuring we wouldn’t be disturbed, then peeled off my armor piece by piece. Grem and Zeec took their places on their floor, heads propped on paws as they watched me.

When I turned to the bed, Assyria was on her knees, much like she’d been the first night we’d spent together. Her long, dark hair tumbled freely around her shoulders, kissing the curve of her waist. She held her chin defiantly high and stared me down. I expected her to bite at me with those sharp teeth she liked to show.

Instead, she uttered five words that rocked me to my core.

“I…thank you.” She paused as if she were grappling with the words she wanted to say and wrangling them into leaving her mouth. “Thank you for protecting me.”

Her words were soft too, and they twisted my heart into an even more tangled mess than it already was. I clenched my fists to keep myself from reaching for her again, to prevent her from seeing just how deeply she’d affected me with her gratitude.

All along, that was what I had been trying to do. She’d never seen it, recognized it, before now.

Much like the first time I’d seen a drawing of her eyes, I felt like she saw me to the darkness of my soul. Yet she didn’t balk, didn’t blink. She thanked me.

And that was a gift I didn’t realize I needed.

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49

Trol waited, arms crossed, for Rapp and me on the outskirts of Ustlyak. He looked better when we’d left him to hold off the Angel’s advance months ago. Dust clung to every inch of him, and his close cropped hair had grown out and swirled wildly around his head. Instead of black, it was a sandy brown. His clothes, too, looked worse for the wear, and as we approached, the stench of death and decay assaulted my nostrils—yet another reminder of how close we were to those fucking fanatics.

“Trol,” I greeted him, and he offered me a salute in return.

“Halálhívó,” he said, then clasped arms with Rapp. “Thank you both for meeting me here. I truly needed a break from the front.”

“It is a well deserved one by all accounts,” I told him. Behind us, the oasis city vibrated with frantic energy, with the Angels only a week’s ride north. Trol had managed to force them backward in the time we’d been traveling, thank the Fates, but the city remained poised on the edge, ready to defend or flee. On the road, we’d encountered dozens of families braving the Paks Desert to enter the southern parts of the Demon Realm.

Because if the Angels broke through our line, they’d all be slaughtered without mercy.

“Aye, it’s taken a lot out of us, and I’m not the only one who could use a rest,” Trol commented. I had no doubt the thousands of males he’d left behind were exhausted. They’d held their ground for months while we gathered the new recruits and brought them north.

Rapp jerked his head to the open doors of a nearby tavern. “Let’s have a drink and sit.”

“I won’t refuse that,” he chuckled, and the three of us strolled toward the shady overhang where a series of tables waited. No one had to voice that Trol was in no state to enter the establishment.

A female swept from the dark depths and took our order. Unlike Trol and Rapp, I requested a citrus water. One of us had to keep his wits about him in case of an emergency.

“When did you arrive?” Trol asked us.

“Just yesterday,” I replied, leaning back so the female could place our drinks in front of us. My mind drifted to Assyria, tucked safely away in Ustlyak’s nicest guesthouse. Things had been…strange with us ever since I made her come under the waterfall. A flash of hurt swept through me as I recalled the way she backed away from me when I told her she was beautiful. I had meant it when I said it, and I couldn’t help the way I wanted to continue to touch her long after I’d helped her redress and secure her arm. Then, she’d thanked me for protecting her, and I’d wanted to hold her again.

I slammed the thoughts away.

I couldn’t keep doing this with how close we were to the fighting.

“I came as quickly as I could after receiving the raven,” Trol said, sipping from the cool mug. Black crusted the underside of his nails. I was not looking forward to suffering through that level of dirt again. The sooner we could push the Angels past Lutsk, the better. At least the city at the end of the desert was a gateway into the loamy earth that led to the ocean and around the base of the Skala Mountains.

“And how are things looking at the front? Do you still believe splitting is the best option?” I asked him. The glass sweated over my hand as I raised it, studying the slices of fruit bobbing in it.

Trol smacked his lips as he savored his drink. “Aye. Fortunately or unfortunately, the Angel commanders have realized the futility of continuing forward and have begun to retreat on their own.”

I nodded, mulling over his words. “And you are near the end of the canyon now, correct?”

“Close enough,” he replied with a shrug.

“So the Angels will backtrack to go overland. It’s risky given the lack of water, but if they force us out there, we’d either be weighed down by having to carry the barrels or die of thirst ourselves,” I mused. The stakes were simple: push them back or die. That didn’t make accomplishing the task any easier.

Rapp snorted. “Either way, they win, even if they hold their line.”

Because their sole goal was to eradicate the Demons.

“That is my assumption as well,” Trol added, then drained his ale to the dregs. He swiped his dirty hand across his mouth, then called for another.