“Doesn’t matter. No one will see you anyway.” At last, I secured my helmet over my head, then took a step toward her. Those burgundy eyes widened, and she subtly retreated backward. “Now, are you going to be good and get out of bed on your own, or will I have to force you?”

Pressing her lips together, but by no means smoothing the utter abhorrence off her face, she scrambled out of it, the shirt nearly swimming to her knees once she was standing. “Lead the way, I guess.”

“That’s not how this works. You walk in front of me, and Grem and Zeec will ensure you don’t run away. You will also be utterly quiet. Should you make a sound, I will not hesitate to permanently silence you.” I gestured for her to move toward the waiting hounds. Their tails thumped at the mention of their names.

“They seem friendlier than you,” she said, flicking a messy braid over her shoulder before sticking her nose in the air and striding toward them.

“They are.”

Spinning, they faced forward and brushed through the tent flaps. A slight nip clung to the air, and Assyria shivered in only my thin shirt. Hooves clopped against the hard earth, and then Rapp appeared through the pre-dawn shadows. Pressing a finger to my lips, I indicated that we should remain silent, and he nodded, handing me the reins.

Before Assyria could protest, I snatched her waist and threw her over the saddle. To her credit, she didn’t make a sound, and when I mounted behind her, she arched away, as displeased with the arrangement as I was. Reaching around her, I grasped the reins, then dug my heels in and directed my stallion forward.

“Hold onto his mane so you don’t fall,” I breathed in her ear.

“I know how to ride a fucking horse,” she hissed back.

Then, I called on the shadows swirling in my chest and brought as many down from the night sky to bathe her in darkness. To anyone who might observe me riding, I would appear alone atop my horse.

We rode through the camp and along the dirt path to Uzhhorod, finding the gates open with only a handful of people milling about them. Most appeared to be in a drunken stupor and did not pay us any attention. Winding through the streets was a different story entirely, and we took to as many alleys and barren thoroughfares as we could to avoid the residents of the capital. By the time we reached Gyor’s gates, the barest hint of dawn snatched the more distant stars overhead.

Four red-armored guards swung them open for us, and when one of the grooms approached to take our horses, I waved him off. “No need. We won’t be long.”

My rooms were situated at the rear of the palace, and I wove us through the complex gardens, scanning for any would-be observers. Finding none, I finally dropped my magic and pulled up my stallion.

“We’ll tether them here and then fly up to the balcony,” I told Rapp.

He nodded, then dismounted. I did the same, dragging Assyria down to the ground as well. She stared in wonder at the gray basalt pillars, the red stone accents placed at regular intervals, and the wide, arched windows that allowed for natural light to filter in at all hours of the day. The hillside retreat was imposing, and I wondered if this was the first time she’d seen it. Being from Stryi, I doubted she had previously.

Just beyond the hedge maze, the long, sweeping balcony attached to my suite awaited us. Calling on my magic again, I snapped my wings from my back and snatched Assyria’s waist from behind, shooting into the sky with one powerful flap. Down our bond, Assyria’s frustration battered me, and her grumbling thoughts of being treated like a sack of grain entered my mind. She could have flown herself, naturally, but I didn’t trust her not to sail straight over Gyor and into the Skala Mountains. I didn’t have the time or patience to hunt her down today.

Ignoring her, I focused on reaching the door as quickly as possible. Flaring my wings, I landed us just before it, releasing Assyria as quickly as I could. The wide doors locked from the inside, but I didn’t waste any time punching through a pane and reaching around to open them.

Someone could fix it later. Entering surreptitiously was more important.

Then, noting Assyria’s bare feet, I swept her over my shoulder and carried her inside.

“Fucking asshole.”

“You know I can hear your every thought.”

“Good, then you’ll know what a joke I think this whole situation is.”

“I, too, do not understand the Fates’ purpose in weaving this.”

Silence returned. And I was honestly proud of myself for not losing my temper already this morning.

Rapp entered behind me with the dogs, glass tinkling as he swept it aside. Depositing Assyria on one of the loungers in the sitting chamber, I formally introduced the two. “Assyria, this is Hadvezér Rapp. He is my most trusted advisor, and you will obey him like you would obey me.”

She worked to straighten out my tunic, then glared at both of us. “So if he wants me to spread my legs for him, I should do it?”

Rapp burst into laughter, so loud it echoed in the room. “Oh, Rokath.” He kept laughing, nearly doubled over from his amusement. “I see it. I totally see it.”

“I’m so glad you find this amusing, Rapp,” I drawled, voice dripping with sarcasm.

Assyria glanced between the two of us, brows drawing together. “See what?”

Rapp swiped at his eyes, finally straightening as his amusement died down. “Why the Fates made you mates.”

“Please enlighten me,” Assyria replied, a similar level of sarcasm slipping from her small frame.

That only served to delight Rapp more.

“I’m going to fetch Xannirin before this gets any more out of hand,” I growled, spinning on my heel and stalking toward the door.

“As in the Kral?” she said, tone flipping from snarky to an emotion I couldn’t quite place.

Without glancing back at her, I replied, “As in the Kral, my cousin, who needs to be informed of this development.”

“Oh, shit.”

“Still can hear you.”

“Fuck off.”

Flinging open the door, I startled the Kral’s Guard stationed at the end of the hall. They straightened immediately. “Halálhívó, we didn’t think you were still in Gyor,” the leader stammered, his throat bobbing as he tried and failed to swallow his fear.

Here’s someone I can vent this boiling rage on.

“And because of that, you decide to lean against the wall and sit on the ground, half-asleep?” I seethed, taking a powerful step toward them. “What if I had been Angel spies breaking into the palace? Would you have been able to stop me or would you have been slaughtered like the lazy pigs you are?”

The four trembled under my wrath, and the sight shifted the anger coursing through me to excitement. “Your whole regiment has gotten sloppy with the Angels within a few weeks’ ride to Uzhhorod. If you want to keep your cushy positions in the palace, I expect to never find you or your comrades in anything but perfect precision again. Do I make myself clear?” I spit each word of the question with as much venom as possible. These motherfucking nobles already thought the Angels were going to smash through the Demon army and I’d be damned if I left these imbeciles behind to fuel their fears.

“Yes, sir,” they said, their salutes executed in synchrony.

I didn’t deign to offer them a response as I continued toward Xannirin’s rooms. It was early, far more likely that my cousin had just retired for the night rather than preparing to rise for the day, so I knocked, waiting to see if he would come to the door. When a minute passed and he didn’t, I entered anyway. The sitting chamber was tidy, evidently unused for entertainment the previous evening, so I made my way to his sleeping chamber, finding the door slightly ajar.

“Xannirin,” I hissed at his lumpy form splayed out on the bed.