I hope Rokath has lost some of his brutish attitude toward you and that he will be able to comfort you now. If not, know I am thinking of you and praying for your healing.

All my love,

Kiira

The world spun, and I sank to my knees. “No,” I whimpered, the words blurring as I fought to read them again.

Olrus had been burned. He had taken the blame for Vagach’s murder. He’d died protecting me too. Another slash dug into my heart, the pain so acute I was certain it would never end.

What had I done in a past life to deserve this level of loyalty, Reaper? Why does everyone I love have to die, Weaver? What sort of blessing is this unique magic if I can’t save anyone with it, Giver?

“Assyria,” Rokath murmured, dropping to the ground beside me.

Rapp entered the tent a moment later. “What’s wrong?” he asked immediately, coming around and sitting on the bed. The concern in his eyes shattered the last pane of my self control.

“Olrus,” I cried, clutching the parchment to my stomach. “He–he died. Because of me.”

Rokath wrapped his strong hands around my shoulders, and I allowed him to pull me into his lap. Chest heaving, throat working, eyes burning, I couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, for the force of my grief.

“It wasn’t your fault–” Rokath attempted to reassure me, but I cut him off.

“Yes it was!” I gasped, digging the heels of my palms into my eyes and trying to stem the flow of tears. “It should have been me. I should have died for my actions.”

“The Weaver had other plans for you,” Rapp offered, his tone gentle.

“Fuck the Weaver!” I snapped. “Fuck the Giver, fuck the Reaper. Fuck the Fates. Their gifts have all been curses.”

Rokath wrapped himself tighter around me, and I collapsed against his arms, sobs wracking my entire frame.

Rapp joined us on the floor, smoothing my hair and pulling a piece of fabric from somewhere and drying my nose for me. “I know you lost your parents, sister, and the Vezető. Now Olrus. Your grief is overwhelming right now. I see you, Assyria. We’re not going anywhere.”

He kicked Rokath’s shin, jostling us both. “We aren’t,” Rokath promised. “I’ve got you, Assyria.”

“You don’t know that,” I choked out. They didn’t realize the Reaper had cursed me. That was the only explanation as to why this kept happening.

The males spoke around my weeping, but I paid them no attention. I could hear nothing, see nothing, feel nothing, other than sorrow.

I was limp when Rokath rose and the two worked to settle me in bed. Grem and Zeec hopped up a moment later. Zeec nudged my shoulder with his cold nose before licking my face. I didn’t have the energy, the will, to push him away. Grem settled with his head on my thigh while Rokath and Rapp exchanged a few more words.

Then, Rokath tied the flaps and returned to me. The mattress dipped beneath his weight as he laid down beside me, stroking my cheek with the back of his knuckles. He wiped tear after tear away, saying nothing.

Eventually, my breathing evened out, but my eyes remained swollen. My heart shredded into a thousand pieces as reality settled over me. I turned on my side, curling around the dogs. Rokath did the same to me. His hand rested on my stomach, pressing lightly against it as if he were reminding me that I was still here, still alive.

I wanted to turn around and scream at him to get away from me. That by comforting me, he was dooming himself to die. This curse the Reaper surely had placed on me was only going to end in tragedy for him too. For all of the Demons. Allowing myself to linger in his embrace was dangerous because I was so close to falling for him.

The thought hit me like a bolt of lightning. Fear slithered up my spine and another sob wracked my frame.

Yet I couldn’t drag myself away from him. I drank in his heat, greedy for his affection, and shifted closer to him still. His arm tightened, and a sense of safety settled over me—one that had been so absent in my life for so long, I hadn’t thought myself capable of experiencing it again.

“Sleep, Assyria,” Rokath said, the gravel in his voice vibrating against my back. I was beyond exhausted, and careening into oblivion was the only guaranteed way out of this agony.

Rokath couldn’t love me, and I couldn’t love him.

Because everyone I loved, everyone who loved me, always died.

And I couldn’t take it anymore.

OceanofPDF.com

51

Anoise pricked at my ears, drawing me out of the reverie I’d been lulled into on our ride. Days had passed, and yet Olrus still filled my thoughts. Over and over, Rokath had attempted to console me, to reassure me that everything would be okay. I only shoved him away. At least now, some of that iciness had returned to him. It would ensure his survival, even if it meant my heart continued to shatter.

Blinking, I sharpened my focus on the land ahead. We were still within the canyon’s belly, wider than ever before but just as high on the striated sides. Something moved in the distance, far enough away that I knew it wouldn’t be the small game I’d been spotting as Rokath taught me how to scout for danger. A few battalions of riders had departed before we did, and it seemed like we’d nearly caught up to them.

“Is that–”

“The front,” Rokath growled, and then I understood what that noise was.

Screams. Anguished screams. Dying screams.

The hairs on my arms rose as another volley of them echoed down the canyon.

“We’re still a day away from it,” he told me, so casually that I whipped my head to the side and gaped at him.

“Isn’t that kind of a big deal?” I asked, a waver in my voice.

He pulled back on his mount’s reins, halting him. I did the same with Blaeze. Grem and Zeec trotted forward and sniffed before returning to us, plopping on the ground and panting. “Yes, which is why we must shift our forces around now.”

Clopping hooves drew my attention, and Rapp appeared from behind the closest supply wagon a moment later. By the grim determination on his face, I gathered that he knew of this plan already. Clearly, no one trusted me with this information, and I was kept in the dark yet again, merely a decoration who was supposed to do as she was told when she was told.

Shading his face, Rapp stared down the canyon too. His tongue worked over the ring in his lip, and then he turned his attention to Rokath. “Left or right?”

“Left,” Rokath replied. Rapp nodded.

“Left or right, what?” I asked, attention bouncing between the two of them.

“We’re splitting up,” Rapp stated, swinging a leg over his mount and dropping to the ground.

“Wait what? How?” I frowned, trying to understand what the two were talking about.

Rapp handed me his reins without a word, and I tracked his movement until he disappeared around the soldiers behind us. More noise filled the air around us as orders rang out.

I slashed my attention to Rokath, who had also dismounted and appeared ready to command his army. “Ro–” I started but corrected myself. “Halálhívó–”

“Now is not the time for your questions,” he growled. “Stay here until I return for you.”

I glanced ahead, at where the battle raged in the distance. “Really? Here?” I huffed. Sure, Rokath had been teaching me how to fight, but if the line broke and we were suddenly overwhelmed, I’d be defenseless, which was what he didn’t want.

“Assyria,” he snapped, drawing my attention back to him.

I offered it to him with narrowed eyes. His were barely visible through his ebony horned helmet, but the riotous fire in them was unmistakable. “I need to focus on moving everyone and everything to the top of the ridge. Your complaining and questioning will not help that.”