Yet he’d given me something so intimate, so personal, so sacred. A tempest of emotion swirled inside me.

“So what are you going to do with me, Rokath?” I asked, sighing and dropping my arms to my sides.

Those heavy brows dipped for a moment as he mulled over his next words. Then, he blew out a breath equally as long as my own. “I will allow you to sleep here for the night. The hour is too late to trek to Gyor Palace.”

“That didn’t answer my question,” I stated, resisting the urge to twine my fingers in these blankets and scrunch.

He straightened, carrying that powerful presence with him. “I know.” From the floor, he grabbed a tunic and shrugged it on, buttoning it up with practiced precision. The tattoos I’d merely glimpsed disappeared along with the torso sculpted from the very stones of the Skala Mountains. “A guard will be stationed outside to ensure you are protected and do not leave. No one will come in or out of this tent except for me.”

“And if they do?” I asked, cocking my head to the side.

“If they do, you know how to kill them,” he shrugged, and even the fabric couldn’t hide the way the movement sent ripples across his thick muscles. “If they do, then I will know through our bond that you are in danger, and I will kill him myself if you do not accomplish the task.”

“And if I try to leave?” I said, lifting my chin.

He looked pointedly at my attire. “I would hope you aren’t stupid enough to try wearing that. But if you are,” he was on top of me in a heartbeat, pinning me beneath him on the bed. My breath hitched as he dropped his lips to my ear. “I will always be able to find you, mate. So run, if you want. I do so love a good chase.”

And with that, he shoved off the bed, sweeping from the tent without so much as a backward glance.

Heart pounding, I lay there, trying to come to terms with everything that happened in the span of a day—not even that. Mere hours. They continued to drag on as my mind whirled faster than a windstorm on the plains south of Stryi.

Soon, the candles on the bedside table bled down their stems, pooling on the polished wood beneath them. Like the melting wax, tears burned my eyes and overflowed, dripping on the blanket beneath my cheek as my emotions slammed into me and stole my breath.

The force of my sobs shifted me, and something sharp dug into my shoulder. Shuffling around, I yanked the discarded dagger free. The bronze blade glinted in the light, though the harsh edges blurred through my watery eyes.

In the span of a dozen heartbeats, my entire life flashed before my eyes. All the pain, all the suffering, all the loss. The weapon grew heavy in my palm. I’d never been more tempted than in that moment to plunge it into my heart and end it all.

Yet glimmers of joy slipped through, almost as if the Weaver had entered my mind and shaken out the tapestry of my life, only highlighting the greatest moments. More tears leaked from me as my sister’s bright, joyous face flashed by.

She wouldn’t want this for me.

So I flung the dagger, not caring that it smacked into something on the other side of this tent. Then, I curled in on myself and wept for everyone and everything I had lost.

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25

The Reaper held the war camp in her clutches as I returned to the black tents and the square beyond. Chaos scattered moment by moment as the Parancsok shouted at and restrained their soldiers, while others were shoved to the whipping post for discipline. The sight of it all had me clenching my jaw so fucking hard I thought I would break it from that alone.

This is not what I wanted the day before my army was finally ready to move again.

The scent of burning flesh lingered in the air from where that Vezető’s body rested on the still-smoldering pyre. Halting in the center of the mayhem, I brought my fingers to my lips. The sharp whistle stopped everyone in their tracks and brought utter silence to the entire camp.

“If you aren’t tucked away in your beds in the next five minutes, then you’ll join him in death,” I growled, pointing to the embers sparking in the dark night.

At once, the seasoned warriors grasped the arms of their new compatriots, steering them away. They knew I didn’t make idle threats.

Rules and order were the only way we ensured everyone’s survival on the battlefield. If they needed a reminder of that, so be it. As much as it would pain me to do so, I would gladly sacrifice their lives to prove my fucking point.

The officers shouted additional orders, following their charges back to their respective sections of the camp. Without waiting to see if all complied, I burst into the command center again and found Rapp in the bone room, pacing.

Olet and Assyria’s Százados were gone.

Rapp halted when he saw me, opening his mouth to speak. I held up my hand.

“You told me I could be a broody bastard and tell you tomorrow.” I sighed, then rubbed circles over my jaw in an attempt to loosen the tense muscles. “Kiira arrived late to a scheduled meeting with Xannirin and me, mid-vision, speaking of a female with eyes of devious burgundy being essential. After she came to, she didn’t recall having said anything.”

Rapp’s mouth tightened, and the studs above his eyebrows flashed as they dipped together. The two of them were close, and she wrote to him more often than she wrote to me while we were away. “That’s unusual. Essential to what?”

I grunted, then surrendered my attempt to ease the ache in my head. “Of course, she didn’t say. That question has been eating at me ever since. Then, this morning, a priestess arrived at Gyor bearing an indecipherable note from Kiira, again mentioning this female.”

Realization flitted across Rapp’s eyes a moment later. “And that female…”

“Is. My. Fucking. Mate.” I spit out each word with every ounce of bitterness coating my tongue. Amid the chaos, I’d been able to snatch her away before anyone figured out what had happened between us. Throwing her over my shoulder like a sack of grain had been a great solution to covering the perfect circle on my back since I’d abandoned my shirt in my tent prior to settling on the throne of bones for the evening.

“No way,” Rapp said, sinking back onto my preferred seat.

“Unfortunately, I have the mark to prove it, and this utterly insane desire to fuck her senseless,” I groused, taking his place and pacing over the threadbare rug.

Rapp tracked my movement from one fabric wall to another, thumbing his lip.

“Well, this evening took an unexpected turn,” he finally said, straightening on the throne.

“You think?” I snapped. Anger swelling to its breaking point, I punched the canvas without holding back. It didn’t do anything to slake the fury. If anything, I wanted to hit it again. “After everything we’ve done to amass an army this size, to train and then separate them, and now we’ve bred distrust at the penultimate moment. We have to fix this or everything will be for nothing.”

“You didn’t have to kill him,” Rapp commented, bracing his elbows on his knees and studying the ink on his knuckles.

I ceased all movement and sliced my attention in his direction. “Yes, I did. The rules and laws are clear, and I do not deviate.”

He held his hands up in supplication. “Fine, yes, I know you are sensitive about the enforcement of army rules. I’m just saying showing mercy every once in a while wouldn’t hurt.”

“No one showed us any mercy,” I pointed out. A flash of a memory speared through my mind before I shoved it away. My father had no place here, not now, not ever.

Rapp sighed, running a hand over his close-cropped hair, then pushed off my throne. “No, they did not.”

We faced each other, neither of us saying anything for a moment. Grem rose lazily from his cushion beside the bones, stretching and yawning before ambling to my side. He leaned into me, rubbing his head on my thigh. I stroked his silky fur, the action not even close to soothing the burning rage inside me.