Crossing my arms, I waited for him to put some damn clothes on. “Why did you come, Rokath? I wasn’t expecting you for another day at least.”

“Because,” I started, then realized I had no excuse, no news to offer him.

“That’s what I thought,” Xannirin teased, buttoning up a navy tunic.

A growl rumbled in my chest, and I spun on my heel, back to the sitting chamber. I threw myself on a chair, then shoved my head between my hands, rubbing my jaw furiously. Xannirin padded toward me and sat opposite, crossing one ankle over his knee. He rested his head on his closed fist and watched me unravel with a fucking smile on his face.

“I am so glad you find this amusing, cousin,” I snarled.

“Somehow it is simultaneously amusing and concerning. It would be a lot funnier if we weren’t at war,” he replied, not dropping his grin.

“I hate this. Hate her,” I snipped, collapsing back and pressing the heels of my palms into my eyes. “I can’t fucking sleep. I need to fucking sleep.”

“Do you need something strong from the healers to help?” Xannirin asked, his tone softening.

I didn’t need his fucking pity. Glaring at him, I said, “Yes, but only for today.”

He knew, as much as I did, that once I started taking sleeping droughts regularly, I wouldn’t stop. Insomnia had plagued me for centuries, and I managed it well enough—most of the time. I’d started them after the incident with Thast, and it took decades for me to admit I needed to kick them. What a nightmare that had been—and one I didn’t want to suffer through again.

“I’ll send for one now. You can sleep in my bed for a few hours if you want,” Xannirin offered.

Shoulders finally relaxing, I nodded. My cousin hurried to speak with the guards stationed outside his rooms while I sat, staring at nothing, fatigue pulling at everything the bond wasn’t. He returned a few minutes later with the bitter potion. “It’s a half dose, so you’ll only get a few hours.”

I’d take what I could get. I snatched the glass and threw it back. The foul taste coated my tongue despite my best efforts, and I coughed. Xannirin fetched me some water, and I gulped it, trying to cleanse my mouth. That, at least, was an incentive not to get hooked on them again.

“Better head in there before it kicks in. I can’t carry you, you muscled ass,” Xannirin quipped, shooing me with his hands.

Grumbling, I rose, drowsiness already clawing at me. At least the potion worked quickly.

Xannirin’s bed was still warm when I fell into it after fumbling off my armor. I tried my best to leave it in a neat pile. Mind slowing, the chaotic thoughts that had kept me awake night after night drifted away. Where the bond had burned into me, only soothing caresses remained.

Finally, fucking finally, I was escaping its madness. I blinked into the pillow before allowing my eyes to drift closed. With a heavy exhale, sleep swept me off to a palace of oblivion, where the pressure of protecting the Demons, protecting my mate, no longer attempted to drown me.

OceanofPDF.com

30

Half on my stomach, half on my side, I watched the first rays of sun rise over the mountains in the distance. Rokath’s bed was the most comfortable one I’d ever slept in, and the squishy pillow beneath my face was borderline holy. Unfortunately, it still smelled like him—fire and pepper with a hint of his dogs.

Nearly a week had passed since Rokath dumped me here with a promise to return when it was time to depart. Which left me with far too many hours alone, with only my thoughts to keep me company. Much like my life in Stryi. Without meaning to, I’d slipped back into old habits, my mind digging in on the worst memories. Despite the light blanket covering me, heaviness pressed me down into the mattress, the weight from grief so large and heavy I wanted it to crush me.

No one wanted me.

I was trapped again. I lost someone I loved again. If this cycle were doomed to repeat itself with a mate, then what was the point in living?

If Rokath weren’t standing between the Angels and the slaughter of all the Demons, I’d fill the massive tub in his bathing chamber and let that rock sit on my chest until my spirit left this world in search of another, better one.

But, I’d slipped away before, with the help of my magic, and who was to say I couldn’t again? It was risky, yes, but I was so much more powerful now than I was when I left Stryi. I knew—somewhat—how to fight, how to wield a sword, how to use my magic. Masking my mate mark was entirely possible. No one would ever know who I was or where I came from. Like a wraith, I’d drift through the small towns along the coast, picking up odd jobs and changing my appearance regularly to escape notice and dodge Rokath should he attempt to seek me out.

It was freedom, at least in its own way. The bond would surely punish me for the distance between Rokath and me, and yet, I could learn to live with it, as I had learned to live with so many other aspects of my life. The alternative was learning to live with Rokath.

A scoff slipped out of me at the thought.

More plotting for my eventual freedom wound its way through my mind. I’d have to wait until Rokath was thoroughly distracted. I wasn’t privy to his plans, though some of his thoughts did slip through as he spoke with his officers the previous few days. Surely, an opportunity would present itself, especially among hundreds of thousands of males. I’d call upon my magic and disappear into the crowd, never to be seen again.

Right on cue, the bond stabbed into me, yanking a yelp from my throat as I jerked off the bed. Huffing out a frustrated breath, I decided that there was no use wallowing in bed. I could at least nourish my soul in the garden.

From a pile in a chair, I selected a slate gray dress and donned it. The sleeves were tight around my wrists but billowed toward the shoulder, and the neckline cut deep before cinching around my waist. The skirt swished around my ankles as I entered the sitting chamber and found Kiira already there with food.

Again, she was veilless.

“Good morning, Assyria,” she cooed, sipping from a delicate cup.

“Good morning, Kiira,” I said warmly.

Steam wafted from a second cup. A plate piled with a rainbow of fresh cut fruit and hearty oats waited beside it. I settled across from Kiira and offered her a soft smile. She’d shirked her duties to keep me company, and as the days passed, I’d grown to like her more and more.

The bond flared again, and I gritted my teeth. I’d almost emptied the bottle of spicy alcohol I’d found just trying to numb the sensation so I could get some fucking sleep.

“The bond?” Kiira asked, drawing my attention back to her.

“Mhmm,” I managed to get out, sipping from the pium tea. Its fresh flavor swept over my tongue, chasing away the fuzziness left by the alcohol.

She snorted and shook her head. “Rokath is a stubborn male. He’s likely staying away out of pure spite to it.”

“I hope he continues to,” I groused, reaching for a fluffy piece of bread and piling fruit on it. Flavor exploded on my tongue as I bit into it.

Changing the subject, Kiira said, “There is a ball tonight to celebrate the army’s departure.”

“Oh?” I replied, chewing slowly.

“I think you should join us. Discreetly of course,” she added in a rush.

I swallowed around the dryness in my mouth. “And what does Rokath think? Will he be in attendance?”

“I haven’t asked Rokath, and yes he will be in attendance,” Kiira replied, sipping again from her drink. The way her mouth curled at the corners made me think she wasn’t planning on asking him either.

I liked her rebellious streak. It mirrored my own. Over the past few days, I’d grown to like Kiira tremendously, especially since we shared many similar traits. And attending the ball, without Rokath’s permission, was the perfect ‘fuck you’ that I would be foolish to pass up.