The strategy game was one Xannirin and I had played, along with our fathers, since childhood, though Xannirin was by far the better player. It required cunning, manipulation, and knowing your opponent—all skills he excelled at wielding. Which was why he was Kral and no one dared challenge his position. No one dared believe anything other than he was the Fates’ gift to the Demons, his path woven specifically to bring about their rise in station over the Goddess. Just as no one dared deny that my magic was the way we’d ensure that victory came to pass.

“I agree with Kiira, it will be at least a century before I play with you again,” I told him, and our protests only seemed to serve his ego. “Why don’t you play with some of the Nayúr or Kormánzó?”

He laughed and sipped from his wine glass. “Because they are all inept at best. Most are lucky I keep them around at all.”

I couldn’t argue with that point.

Kiira took a long drink of wine, then grabbed a slice of cheese and some bread, tucking her feet under her as she settled back onto the couch. Covering her mouth with her hand, she said around her bite, “I heard earlier that House Nuul had their fourth son.”

“Aye, and he has maroon eyes, like the rest of them,” Xannirin added.

“How fortunate for House Nuul to have four children, let alone four males with such powers,” I mused. Only the oldest was barely of age, and the second wouldn’t reach maturity for two decades more at least.

“Ergad and his wife must have quite the sexual appetites,” Xannirin laughed, popping a handful of nuts into his mouth.

His crunching was overshadowed by a burst of laughter from Kiira. She reached for the bottle and refilled her wine, not looking up as she quipped, “Coupling for the pleasure of…the Kral.”

Xannirin burst out laughing, and I couldn’t help the upward twitch of my lips. After months of near-constant vigilance, it was nice to loosen the white-knuckle grip I held over every aspect of my life and simply be with two of the people I trusted most in the world.

After refilling all our glasses, we plucked from the platter and fell into stories, reminiscing on our childhoods, wild moments while we were younglings, and how far we’d come in our centuries of life. I only hoped we’d have centuries more together, with Rapp too, and that the Angels wouldn’t overrun us before the year was up.

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19

The steady incline on the road made me grateful I was riding a horse rather than walking alongside one of the supply wagons. Even the seasoned warriors were red-faced and huffing by the time we paused for a break. The horses’ hides were sweat-soaked, and thankfully, we’d been able to lighten the load for them since we left Osijek so we weren’t forcing them to pull an overstuffed cart for the miles and miles that remained between us and Uzhhorod.

Pulling from my waterskin, I allowed the cool liquid to wash over my tongue and renew my strength. The air was thinning rapidly along our ascent, only worsening the breathlessness of the footsoldiers.

“Jaku,” I called out to the passing Százados, “where will we stop tonight?”

He approached, giving my horse’s neck a pat before turning north. “You see that flat bit over the next hill?”

“Yes,” I replied, squinting and following the direction of his finger.

“There should be enough room for all of us if we pack in tight. We might have to double up on tents, but we’ll see when we get there,” he commented. Glancing around at those under my charge, he nodded. “You’re doing good work, Vagach. I am grateful you’re under my command.”

His words shocked me and I barely managed to keep my face neutral. “Thank you, Százados.” I offered him a respectful salute, which he returned before turning to walk back toward the front.

Pride bloomed in my chest as I looked at the males, wondering how I’d changed so much since our departure. The confidence I used to possess before my marriage had returned, and though I had to be harsher than I wanted to be with them as Vagach, they had come to respect my command. I’d dug us out of one situation after another to earn it in addition to putting in equal efforting alongside them in training. We’d learned to work together as a small unit, along with Izgath’s, especially after the times we’d had to dig a wagon out of the mud, or the treacherous river crossing that left one with a broken wheel.

The Incubus drew my attention as he approached on horseback. Once he was close enough, he dropped his voice low. “Do you have enough magic to push the wagons forward if needed?”

A momentary perusal of my magic well was all it took to know that I had the barest amount to spare. And with the possibility of a bed partner that night, I couldn’t risk overextending myself. So I shook my head. “Jaku mentioned that our stopping place does not have a lot of room, so we might have to double up.”

“We’ll share, then you don’t have to worry about using your magic or waking before me to conceal your identity. Assisting the wagons might be the only thing that gets us to the crest anyway,” Izgath said grimly.

After our interaction in the fallen house and the moments of intense tension since, the thought of sharing a confined space with Izgath sent a shiver through me—though if it were lust or fear, I wasn’t sure. Perhaps it was both. The male had demonstrated time and time again since his promise to protect me that he would. Priestess Anara’s warning rang out in the back of my head, but since my world had opened like a blooming rose, some beliefs I’d long held wilted.

Maybe I can trust him with my body too.

“Okay,” I breathed, and then I cringed at how wrong it sounded coming from Vagach.

To be out of this form permanently will be a gift.

Heat bloomed in my core, licking its way up my spine and settling itself around me like a lazy tendril of smoke. As I held Izgath’s gaze, I wondered if I’d even be able to slip away into the night, never to see him again. A moment stretched between us, then two, before I tore myself away and turned toward the road again.

I busied myself studying the landscape, still acutely aware of Izgath’s presence beside me. From this vantage point, the Vago River was visible in the distance, growing fainter the higher we climbed into the Skala Mountains. The area was breathtaking, and after living so long on the grassy plains, a welcome change.

“Move out!” Jaku called in the distance, and everyone in the squad rose or took a step forward. The drivers of the wagons commanded their horses onward, and with a groan, the wheels rolled their burdens toward the packed dirt road once again. Izgath and I fell into line behind the two slowest ones, whose horses seemed to struggle the most with the incline. I called out to a few of the males in my unit to hang back, keeping my attention firmly on the one in front of me.

Each revolution of the wheel was slower than the last, and as I was forced to lean forward into Blaeze to keep my balance, I understood how steep the road had gotten in such a short time.

“Prepare yourselves to call on your magic,” I shouted at my companions. They said nothing, merely nodding their confirmation as they too struggled to breathe. Guilt panged in my gut from my position atop Blaeze, but I couldn’t let my thoughts drift, not when reaching the crest of this hill was paramount.

The wagon stuttered, and I immediately pulled shadows forth and shoved them against the flat back panel. The males around me threw up their hands and contributed more, offering the beasts at the front a reprieve. Blaeze halted, and sweat poured down my neck and back from the exertion.

One of the drivers shouted something indecipherable, and I wasn’t sure if his words were meant for us or for the horses. So I poured more into it, hoping to give them the nudge they needed to continue because my well was running dangerously low. The wood groaned as it moved again, bouncing over a rock in the road, but it kept rolling.