Something must have happened to him. He must have been discovered helping me escape or someone must have discovered Vagach’s body. Oh, Fates, I had to return to Stryi to check on him. I couldn’t lose him too.

“Vagach, you alright?” Uzadaan asked, snapping me back to reality.

Quickly, I shoveled the food into my mouth and nodded.

“He looks like he just saw an Angel fucking his wife,” Dromak snorted, sipping from his drink to cover his teasing grin.

I choked, food flying from my mouth at his unexpected comment. The three roared with laughter as I desperately tried to clear my airways. Uzadaan leveled a hard smack on my back, forcing whatever was stuck in my throat flying forward and straight onto Dromak’s face.

Wide-eyed horror played out across it, and then I was laughing too, unable to contain my amusement with the utter absurdity of the situation. Tears streamed down Izgath’s face as he clutched his abdomen, howling with laughter. With a look of utter disgust, Dromak swiped the wad of half-chewed food from his cheek and flung it at Izgath, only for it to fly past him and land on the shiny armor of Jaku, who had appeared at the head of our table at precisely the wrong moment.

“What in all the worlds has gotten into you four?” he asked, brows pinching as he glared at his sullied armor. “And what is this?”

“You don’t want to know,” Uzadaan grinned, using his dining cloth to swipe it away. Izgath used his to dry his eyes, while I dabbed my mouth with mine.

Jaku rolled his eyes and then continued on with whatever message he was here to deliver. “Madar is sending us two males to replace Uzadaan and Vagach as Vezető. Please welcome them, nicely, when they join us later this evening.”

“Please don’t tell me its Drul and Ikket,” Dromak groaned, bracing his elbows on the table and rubbing his temples.

“Ikket isn’t that bad,” Izgath butted in.

“Says you. When we were in the Eső Forest, he found one of those giant leaves filled with water and tricked me into standing beneath it. I was soaked for days!” Dromak protested, slicing Izgath with a sharp look.

“Suck it up, Dromak, because they’re joining us,” Jaku stated, his lips twisting into a mischievous smile.

“You know, Jaku, I’m beginning to think you like torturing me, you sadistic bastard,” Dromak snipped, leaning back and crossing his thick arms over his chest.

Izgath laughed and patted him on the shoulder with all the condescension he could muster. “You make it too easy.”

“I’ll fetch you both when they arrive to settle in. We’ll need their help in the morning,” Jaku replied, glancing beyond us to the swell of people moving about.

“Yes, sir,” Izgath and Dromak said in unison. Uzadaan and I dipped our heads as our Százados departed.

Draining the last of my drink, I sighed, drinking in the feeling of being with my friends one final time. “Well, Uzadaan and I have a big day tomorrow. Better rest up before then.” Pushing back from the crowded table, I rose, lifting my dining ware and preparing to depart.

Izgath mimicked me. “I’m tired from our journey as well. You two coming?”

Dromak picked his teeth with a small wooden stick. “I’ll stay for a bit, see if I can snag an ale from someone. The Halálhívó might not allow it, but there’s always some around.”

Uzadaan shook his head.

“We’ll regroup later then,” Izgath said, following me to the washing tent a few paces away. After handing over our plates, cups, and forks, we dodged Demons coming and going, carving a path back to the Lovak squad’s section.

The light was quickly fading, and by the time we reached our adjacent tents, darkness had fallen over the war camp and all of Uzhhorod. I made to slip into mine, but Izgath grabbed my wrist. “Assyria, wait.”

Spinning, I hissed, “Don’t say my name, it’s not safe.”

He glanced around us, finding the row completely empty. “Are you not going to say goodbye?”

“We still have through the morning,” I said, my voice no more than a whisper as I stood there, facing the male with whom I had this undeniable connection, appearing as the male who had abused me.

But I had hoped to leave without having to say goodbye.

The shine to his garnet eyes was painful, and my heart was already so slashed with grief that I didn’t want to—couldn’t—say any more goodbyes.

Everyone I loved died; everyone who loved me died.

I didn’t want that fate to befall Izgath.

He took a step toward me, and I took one backward, the canvas of my tent brushing against my back. “Then we have until morning,” he breathed, backing me into it with the intensity of his gaze alone.

My low belly clenched with the promise held in his tone. The logical part of my brain screamed at me to refuse him, to tell him to leave so I could make my escape. Yet, I couldn’t bring my mouth to form the hateful words.

He closed the space between us. “Drop your magic, Assyria. Let me see you,” he whispered.

I did as he bid, shrinking into my small frame, Vagach’s clothes draping me like heavy curtains. “Izgath–”

He put a finger to my lips, slicing through the protest I was about to give. “The Weaver will bring us back together again, Assyria. This isn’t the end of us.”

Tears scorched the backs of my eyes, and I blinked rapidly, trying to dispel them and gaze upon Izgath through the haze.

How had he known exactly what I needed to hear?

The finger on my lips brushed across my cheek and caught the drop rolling down it. “No tears for me, beautiful.”

I dropped my gaze and I shook my head. “I can’t do this.”

With a hooked finger, he used my chin to tilt my face up at him again. “Yes, you can. We’ll tell Uzadaan and he will take care of you out there, until we can be together.”

“Can we trust him?” I breathed, a fresh wave of sorrow and apprehension rising to my eyes.

Izgath swiped the tears away again. “I trust him with my life.”

“Okay,” I whispered. Wetness smeared against my cheeks as I blinked, and then Izgath was kissing me, stealing my breath and my sorrow in a single swipe of his tongue. His strong hands gripped either side of my waist and hoisted me into the air. My legs wrapped around him instinctively, and I kicked off the heavy oversized boots as he carried us to my bed.

Our lips never parted as he settled us on it, his large, hot body pressing into mine. With a roll of his hips, his hardness dug into my thigh, and my core throbbed with need. His fingers were incredible, but I wanted to feel him inside me too. We deserved that much before we had to say goodbye. The world spun as I tangled my fingers in his hair, too overcome with want to break apart for air. I tugged him to me, and he pressed harder, as desperate for me as I was for him.

Air flooded my lungs as he broke our kiss, moving his mouth along my jaw and down to my collarbone. “I’ve got you, Assyria.” He bunched up my shirt, revealing my bound breasts. With each press of his lips against my skin, he whispered my name, and I lost myself to the smooth, silky sound of his voice.

“Izgath,” I whispered back, using my grip in his hair to direct his lips to my nipples straining against the fabric. In one smooth motion, he unbound them and sucked one into his mouth, dragging his teeth over the peak. I hissed, arching into him. Those sensual tendrils of his magic unfurled and caressed me, and I groaned, long and low as I flopped back again.

“Let me make you feel good,” he murmured against my breastbone.

“Yes,” I breathed.

Snatching me upright, he tore my shirt overhead and tossed it and the band to the side so I was bare to him from the waist up. He wasted no time in leaning back and removing my pants and the rest of his clothes. When he resettled between my thighs again, his cock nudged at my slit. But he did not enter me; instead, he continued to work his tongue over my breasts and magic over my skin.