Not like any of them would ever know.

The officers were slaughtered in quick succession. An Angel slashed each of their throats from behind, sending blood spraying over the salt flats. The Demons yelled at once another to move, to flee, but it was too late. From the rear, more Angels floated over the ridge, and with grim acceptance, I realized the healers and wounded were likely already dead.

Surrounded from all sides and weaponless, the Demons used their magic to defend themselves, exploding bits of rock here, using their blood however they could, rendering nightmares to the oncoming Angels.

It was useless when they had blades and Amplifiers.

A blinding white light burst from a group in the sky, and combined with the sun, most were forced to shield their eyes. Arrows showered them like acid rain, killing in droves.

Nausea churned in Assyria’s gut, and still, she watched for me.

I sliced a glare in Zaph’s direction, a sadistic smile playing over his face. Like the death of fifty thousand of us was amusing to him. The Angels were sick fuckers, and his attitude, the way he seemed to vibrate with triumphant energy, made me want to redouble my efforts once this was all over.

At least we’d sent the more powerful ones off for further training.

It was the only solace I took in losing what I’d worked so hard to gain.

By the time the screams died, along with the last of my soldiers, my knees ached from where they pressed into the wood, and the blood spurting from my wounds had dried on my skin. I didn’t dare shift, not wanting to risk permanently injuring my hands. I’d have some wicked fucking scars there regardless. But the muscles, the tendons, the bones? I needed those to wield a blade and slice Zaph’s head clean from his shoulders.

The male turned to me as Angels streamed past into their camp and made quick work of tearing it down. “I could kill you right now, you know.”

I scoffed and rolled my eyes, though I doubted it was visible through the slits of my helmet. “No, you couldn’t. You’d have to get close enough to remove my armor, and then I’d yank these stakes out of the wood and stab them through your heart. Then, I’d twist them so they shredded it to pieces as you bled out from the injury. It would be extremely painful, and after what you just did to my battalion, there is nothing I would enjoy more.”

Zaph blanched as I painted the brutal picture for him. “Well, I could. But I won’t because we need to rejoin the rest of the Angel army and inform them of our great victory here today. The infamous Halálhívó on his knees for me.”

Assyria jerked against the males holding her, offering Zaph a feral growl. He whipped around and stalked toward her, grabbing her face in his hand and pinching her jaw. “Do. Not. Touch. Her,” I snarled, shoulders flexing as I prepared for the pain that would come with following through on my earlier threat.

He laughed and threw her head to the side. “Tie her to that pole.” He jerked his head to one at the rear corner of the platform, out of reach from me. Silver bangles still adorned her wrists as the two secured her to it, hands behind her back.

Clearly, they planned on being some distance away by the time we managed to free ourselves from our predicament. The Angels walked away, laughing at their exploit. Already, the far reaches of their camp had moved out, and the rest weren’t far behind.

Assyria and I locked eyes, and the sheer love I saw in them made me even weaker at the knees. I wanted nothing more than to hold her against my chest, feel her skin against mine, and inhale the garden-like scent that called me home.

Emotion hadn’t been part of my life for centuries. Yet this bold, brilliant female smashed my walls to pieces and forced me to feel again. I knew why the Weaver had laid this path and why the Giver had blessed us with a mating bond.

Because I needed to change, and all of the Demon Realm did too.

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62

The sun began its daily descent, bringing with it a cool breeze. The scent of death and decay assaulted my nostrils, and I gagged, doubling over. My shoulder screamed in protest. “Breathe through your mouth,” Rokath told me gently.

I nodded, swallowing down the nausea and steeling my spine. “How are we going to get out of here?” The Angels were long gone now, which made it safe to speak aloud and plot our next move.

Rokath glanced at his staked hands, and my heart twinged. He’d done all of this, suffered for hours, pinned in place, for me. I almost couldn’t believe it, but when he returned his attention to me, I felt his love for me. That he would do it all over again if he had to.

“Do you think you can free your hands?” he asked.

“I dislocated my shoulder again, so I think I can work it back around while it’s out of place,” I sighed, bringing my knees closer to my chest. At least they’d only tied around my shoulders and not wrapped my hands behind the pole too. Still, this would hurt.

Anger flared down our bond, and Rokath’s eyes darkened in the slits in his ebony-horned helmet. “I’m so sorry, little imposter. I should have prepared you better. Because of me, you’re hurt again.”

I offered him a soft, mischievous smile. “Is the great Halálhívó really apologizing for me being hurt? Who would have thought he had it in him.”

“No one, including him,” he told me, sincerity lacing his tone. Rokath had changed so much since our eyes collided and the mate bond seared into place between our shoulder blades.

His temper was still an inferno waiting to be unleashed. He still had sharp edges, especially when it came to events from his past, but he’d shown me how tenderly he could care for me. How worlds-shattering coupling with him was. How he would protect me at all costs.

How he loved me.

How he chose me, above all others. Above the one thing he had desired most in this world.

His actions said more than his words ever had.

Gritting my teeth, I slipped my hands beneath my ass and feet, bringing my hands in front of me. “Agh!” I cried out as agony laced down my arm and around my shoulder like a crackle of lightning.

“Assyria, you don’t have to, I’ll find–”

I shook my head. “No, I’ve got this.” Dragging in a serrated breath, I waited a moment for the pain to subside. Then, I shimmied, scrunching down and trying to push the rope higher on my chest. Eventually it reached my neck, and with some creative maneuvering, I slipped out from beneath it.

Rising, I sank my molars into the knot of rope on my wrists and tugged. They fell away, revealing the silver cuffs still suppressing my magic.

I have to get these off.

But first, I needed to help Rokath.

I raced to his side, studying the silver. “I don’t know how to remove them without damaging my hands,” he sighed, a heavy sound that rumbled from somewhere deep within him.

“It’s certainly to your benefit that I lived on a farm and used stakes all the time,” I quipped, straightening. “I’ll be right back.”

“Careful,” he called out as I leaped from the platform. A smile spread across my cheeks. Now that we’d admitted our feelings, he was softening even more for me. Down the bond, his anxiety was palpable as I strode into the remnants of the Angel’s camp looking for something I could use to free his hands.

Finally, I found an iron bar with a forked tongue, almost like the snake that had bitten me. I snatched it and raced back to Rokath. Taking the steps two at a time, I ascended the platform, bare feet padding lightly over to him.

“This will probably hurt.” He nodded and braced himself. Kneeling, I hooked the fork beneath the head of the stake. “Three, two–” I jerked upward, ripping the first free.