An annoyed noise slipped past my lips before I could stop it. Rokath shot me a warning look, then disappeared along with Rapp, leaving me to watch over three horses and two dogs. That was all I was useful for, I supposed.

Waiting. Watching. Doing nothing.

Rather than remain in the saddle, I hopped down and led my pack toward the rough stone walls. A few scraggly bushes clung to the bottom, and I secured the leather reins to a branch, though I didn’t suspect the horses would venture far. They were all well trained for their tasks. Grem and Zeec sought the shade immediately, and I settled between them, knees tucked up toward my chest and head resting on my crossed arms atop them.

Stupid fucking males.

Rokath and I had been crafting some sort of armistice in our hatred of one another. I knew much of my negative attitude was born from yet another loss in my life, but I couldn’t be bothered to rein in my emotions. Rokath had absorbed my harsh words without so much as a blink, though with each spit of venom, that softness that had appeared in his eyes bled away. My plan to keep him at arm’s length was working because the animosity had returned in full force.

I hated to admit that it carved another slash into my tattered heart. Why had I been foolish enough to believe that the Reaper might not have cursed me after all? That by opening myself up to Rokath, he wouldn’t die?

Stewing on my shitty situation yet again, I watched as males gathered armfuls of supplies and unfurled their dark wings. Shooting into the sky like dark stars, they scaled the high walls and disappeared over the edge. At the rate they were going, this venture would take the entire day. A few with eyes in the darker shades of red used their magic to ferry heavier burdens upward, but since Rokath had sent the most powerful conscripts off to Fured for additional training, no one had enough to make massive differences.

The Parancsok and Százados that remained all had those darker eyes, but I didn’t see a single one helping their charges move the items. Instead, they were busy coordinating movements, bent over parchments, shouting and pointing.

I scoffed, then uncurled myself and buried my fingers in Grem’s dusty black fur. “Can you believe these males? So inefficient. They’re taking everything out of the wagons and leaving them behind when they could just move them to the top.”

He groaned and stretched his legs with a little tremble. “I know, right? It’s a good thing you are a dog. But you’re way smarter than them, aren’t you boy?” I cooed, moving to scratch behind his ears. Zeec, not to be left out, shuffled closer, nudging me with his snout. “Oh yes, you are too, Zeec,” I told him, and he huffed a contented sigh as I massaged his pointed ear.

Glancing up at the sun, I tried to gauge the time. The shadows blocking us from its harsh rays shrunk by the second, which meant we were closing in on prayer time. But by the looks of the males, we’d be skipping today.

Did they break to pray on the battlefield?

An image of the Angel and Demon armies tossing their weapons to the side and dropping to their knees to pray at the peak of the sun entered my mind, and I had to smother a laugh. It was a ridiculous notion when each side fought for every inch of ground, and somehow I got the sense that even if the Angels wanted to pause to pray to the Goddess, Rokath would take advantage of the situation.

He wasn’t a male of honor, of that I was absolutely certain.

As if my thoughts had summoned my mate, he appeared among the throng, towering over a Százados and gesticulating wildly. He ruled the army with a healthy dose of both respect and fear, and the male barely shrank under his wrath, merely nodding and bearing the brunt of what Rokath offered.

Flashes of him punishing the male who had led me pass entered my mind and caused my core to clench. I hated that the way he intimidated others, his ruthless nature, made me desire him more.

The mighty Halálhívó stomped away. The male shouted at a few others to join him, and then shadows swirled around them, snaking under the unhitched wagon and wobbling it off the ground. About halfway up the sheer canyon wall, it teetered dangerously to one side. The Százados yelled at one of his squad members, who poured more magic into the dropping side.

I shot to my feet, already calling upon the shadows in my chest. “Stay,” I told the hounds.

Jogging forward, I lifted both arms and shot magic beneath the rear, leveling it out. Five heads whipped around, gaping as I approached. I took my place beside the Százados. “Are we going to move this thing or not?” I snapped, realizing a moment later I sounded just like Rokath.

“Yes, uh–”

“Don’t bother with pleasantries, just push,” I huffed, twisting and raising my arms further. Still sounded exactly like Rokath.

More inkiness poured from the five, and within two breaths, the wagon rested atop the ridge. I turned to the Százados. “I’m assuming one of you needs to go up there and finish the task?”

“Aye, and thank you for your assistance,” he replied, studying my burgundy eyes. To be fair, I was not often seen by most of the army. Though the whispers had died down for the most part, the knowledge of a female among them was at the forefront of too many minds. I was risking Rokath’s wrath for helping, but fuck it, he was going to be an asshole regardless. Might as well make use of my powers, given that I was one of three in the current group with them. Besides, I wouldn’t be on the battlefield with these males, and whatever they could conserve for their fight would benefit them.

“See to it,” I ordered, then prowled along the line, searching for the next struggling group. Again, I contributed my shadows to helping lift heavy objects, horses, anything that I could. Males soared upward on either side of the canyon as they split off into their new groups. I glanced back at the hounds and the horses, finding them exactly where I left them. They were distant now, after how many males I’d helped, but I decided I could continue a bit further, especially since there was no sign of Rapp or Rokath.

As I turned toward the next group, a familiar voice caught my attention. A bulky, muscular frame and cherry eyes boasted a shit-eating grin as he teased a group of males into pushing a horse to the ridge.

Excitement bloomed in my chest, and I raced forward, calling his name. “Dromak!” He’d only seen me once in my Assyria form, but I hoped he would remember me. He slid his attention from the males to me, and he paled immediately.

I paused mid-stride a dozen paces away from him, something heavy settling in my stomach. “Do you need help?” I asked tentatively. We’d been friends once. But maybe that was only because I was male.

Dromak looked around, searching for something. Then he beckoned me forward with a wave of his hand. I closed the distance and he dropped his head, speaking in a low volume. “I can’t be seen speaking with you. Jaku gave me strict orders to stay away after the whole…incident.”

Tears pricked my eyes, and I nodded. Of course, Rokath would have been vehement about that. I was, after all, supposedly his personal fallen because of that incident. No one needed a reminder of it or what actually took place. The H’s carved into my wrists burned with renewed hatred, along with my heart, and I wished that I hadn’t ruined the long sleeved leather armor in my failed escape attempt so I could hide them.

Dromak saw them anyway, and something that looked a lot like pity filled his eyes. “I truly am sorry, Assyria. For everything. Maybe when this is all over…”

“Yes,” I said quickly, fighting the urge to dash my watery eyes. “A blessing from the Giver it will be soon.”

“Aye. Go on and help some others. I’ve got this under control,” Dromak said gently. Then, he returned to his merciless banter with his unit. The dismissal was clear, and I moved on, ducking my head and wiping my nose on the end of the scarf draped around my head and shoulders.