But as I stepped out of the large boots with the intention of spending a long time in the attached bathing chamber, a soft rap caught my attention. Spinning, I noticed a hint of something white peeking under the slit in the door. Brows dipping, I padded toward it, crouching down to pull what appeared to be a piece of parchment through.

Unfolding it, I found a single line of neat handwriting.

Whenever you are ready, I will be too, Assyria.

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16

“Again,” I barked at Rapp. He slashed a glare in my direction from his position on the torn dirt ground. A slick sheen of sweat coated both of us from the intense sparring we’d been doing for the past hour. Tension ate at my shoulders and neck sitting around Gyor Palace all day, speaking of nothing or repeating the same messages over and over again.

No, the Angels won’t be here in a week’s time. Yes, I have a fucking plan, that’s why males are showing up by the thousands and camped outside the walls of Uzhhorod. No, I will not allow your sniveling offspring an officer’s position he hasn’t earned.

The negative thoughts were starting to creep in, too much idle time away from the action allowing doubt to worm its way into my brain.

I needed to move.

So I came to the war camp and sought out Rapp and a few others to fight. Nothing calmed my racing thoughts like the heat of a match, and while in a training ring my life wasn’t on the line, I could pretend it was, at least for a moment. My focus remained steadfast on the task at hand, unbroken by courtesans, servants, or schemes.

Or by the pressure of protecting all the Demons from death. I may have been able to call upon the dead to do my bidding, but I couldn’t instill life in them again.

“Krax, you go with him,” Rapp pointed at one of the young Százados leaning against the posts marking the ring.

“Yes, sir,” he said to Rapp before jerking his tunic overhead and tossing it to the side.

He approached me with respect, even offering me a kneeling salute before rising and raising his fists. His thick jaw was set and his carmine eyes danced around, studying my movements.

I sidestepped, hands hanging low. But I wasn’t unguarded; it was a ploy to see how the young male would react to such an opponent. Wisely, he didn’t take the bait. Instead, he sidestepped too, nearly the same distance as me. The tense set of his shoulders gave away his nervousness, and when I feinted a punch, he jerked, sharp and quick.

Seeming to understand my test, he blew out a breath and circled, bouncing on his toes.

Then, I struck.

My fist flew straight past his ear, clipping the pointed edge, but the Százados was smart enough to throw a punch to my body while I was in close range. It didn’t hurt nearly as much as when Rapp struck me, but I’d taken more blows than I could count, and none of them truly phased me anymore. Retreating, I sliced a kick at his knee, but Krax dragged his leg out of the way.

Heart racing, sweat pounding out of my pores, I felt so fucking alive.

Without warning, I launched into a flurry of strikes, driving Krax backward as he was forced to defend his head. Once his arms were sufficiently high, I struck his stomach, forcing the air from his lungs.

With a grunt, he grabbed the back of my neck with both hands, trying to break my posture. Fighting against the downward pull, I snaked an arm between us and knocked one hand loose before wrapping it around the back of his head. Tied together, we struggled for control, hands slipping from neck to shoulder and back.

He landed one lucky knee to my side before I used his position against him. Our sweat slicked skin made it easy for me to snake my arm completely over his head, clasping my palms together and throwing him over my hip to the ground.

He thudded against the earth, air whooshing from his lungs, but I didn’t relent. Dirt flew in all directions as I dropped one knee to his stomach to pin him. As I raised my fist to strike, he bucked, sending me flying off of him. I managed to catch myself with my free hand and used my momentum to spin back around, facing off with him.

“You’ll have to do better than that,” I taunted, chest heaving from the effort.

From our crouched positions on the ground, he lunged, trying to tackle me onto my back. But I anticipated the movement, moving to the side just in time to catch his arm and yank him to my chest.

Grabbing my own wrist, I held him there, tightening ever so slightly as he squirmed, trying to break my grip.

“Get your arm in, or you’re going to be choked!” Rapp called out from the side.

Immediately, Krax stopped tugging down and starting shoving up. I let him try for a moment before I switched my arm position and stole his air.

He smacked me, telling me he surrendered.

“Aw, Krax, you totally had him,” Rapp teased, laughing as the Százados rose, dusting himself off.

As I got to my feet, he dipped into a deep bow and then saluted me. “It was an honor, Halálhívó.”

“Try to breathe a little more so your muscles have air to move. It doesn’t help to be so tense,” I told him. I wasn’t that much of an asshole that I wouldn’t give pointers where needed. After all, I was the leader of the entire army, and if I could prevent one of my soldiers from dying with a few recommendations, then it was my duty to do so.

Not that my temper hadn’t brought a few to the brink of death before.

“Thank you, Halálhívó,” Krax said, bringing his fist to his forehead and saluting before returning to the post on which he had been leaning.

I returned my attention to Rapp. “Just because you told Krax to go doesn’t mean you are relieved from your duties. You’ve had your break. Let’s go.”

With a groan, he rose. “You’re never going to learn to relax, are you?”

“Centuries of friendship and you still haven’t figured that out?” I replied, my tone lighter and teasing.

Rapp squared up with me, hunching his shoulders and tucking one fist close to his face. “I keep holding out hope.”

Rolling my eyes, I raised my hands, keeping them nice and loose as we tested each other. We’d sparred more times than I could count, and he was one of the few males with whom I did not have to hold back.

And right now, I wanted an all-out brawl.

Rapp seemed to sense this too, and he glanced at the crowd of onlookers watching their Hadvezér prepare to fight. “Should we show them how it’s done, Halálhívó?”

“Aye,” I grunted, and then Rapp charged.

Strike for strike, we blocked, parried, swung, neither of us landing a clean shot despite our rapid pace. Blood burned through my veins, filling me with exactly what I wanted to feel—nothing.

Nothing mattered but the next move, the next counter, the next roll. While with Krax, I’d toyed with my food and had too much time to think about how I was accomplishing it, Rapp didn’t relent for a heartbeat. He hit me with a barrage of strikes, and I curled up, waiting for the end, then fired a hard hook as he retreated, clipping the side of his head and sending him stumbling.

Throwing up a kick, I caught him in the side, but then his arm snaked around my lower leg and tugged me closer. We’d sparred for centuries, and his next move was entirely predictable. The low kick to my bracing leg came as expected, so I hopped, grabbing his shoulders and throwing my weight back.

A manic laugh escaped him as we tumbled to the ground, but he didn’t go over my head like I had been aiming. Instead, he caught himself on the tips of his toes and pressed all his weight into me. “Don’t be so predictable, Halálhívó.”

“You trapped me. Seems you still have room to change, Hadvezér.” Sarcasm threaded through my tone.