A square of parchment was folded tight, and Rokath poured hot wax over it. I paused at the entrance and watched as he stamped a ring into it, squishing the molten red in a circle.

“What’s that?” I asked, drawing his attention.

“Change,” he rumbled. My heart swelled and that seed of doubt about his sincerity dashed away.

“Glad you’re finally mobile again, Assyria,” Rapp teased from beside him. He vacated his seat, fetched another chair, and left the one closest to Rokath open for me.

“Place,” I told Grem and Zeec, and they trotted to mats near the entrance and plopped down. Before joining the males at the table, I filled a plate with a fresh snack. Hunger gnawed at my belly, finally hydrated enough that my body could concern itself with something other than quenching my thirst.

“I take it the males are unhappy with what you announced?” I ventured, flicking my attention to the note before popping a fat grape into my mouth.

“What gave you that impression?” Rokath asked me.

I lifted a shoulder and grabbed another handful of fruit. “Trol’s yelling was fairly audible on my short walk here.”

Rapp chuckled and Rokath grumbled something incoherent under his breath. I settled my free hand over Rokath’s. “Thank you. I know this isn’t easy.”

The tender look he gave me had me melting into a puddle even more than the heat of the day creeping in. “For you, I’ll do anything, mate.”

“I know,” I whispered. We lingered in that position for a moment, love sweeping down our bond, before I retreated.

“So what are you thinking of for a rescue mission for Banand and Zurronar?” Rapp asked Rokath.

A muscle ticked in Rokath’s jaw. “Depends on where they’re located in the camp. The Angels let thousands die to get to Banand the first time. They’ll likely do the same to keep him. Which means we’ll have to lose more of our forces as well.”

A knot twisted in my gut. Rokath had already given up so much for me, and here he was preparing for more casualties. Yet this was the reality of war, I supposed. I’d been insulated from it before when Rokath kept me at arm’s length. That he and Rapp discussed their plans in front of me now spoke volumes too.

“Why do you need to free them now?” I didn’t want them to suffer, but I also didn’t understand why Rokath would risk so much so soon.

“We need to rescue them before the Angels get the idea to deliver another plague.” He blew out a long breath and rubbed circles over his temples.

“I want to help,” I said in a rush. My heart leaped at the opportunity. I could show these males that I was useful, even more than I had when Rokath was teaching me to scout.

“No. I cannot risk you falling into their hands again,” Rokath growled. Tension rolled off him in palpable waves, and a fierce protectiveness flared down our bond.

“But–”

A muscle jumped in his jaw, and a war of a different variety played out in his tormented expression.

“What else is my magic for if not for this?” I pressed, undeterred. I shot a look begging for aid in Rapp’s direction, hoping he’d stick up to Rokath for me. He’d always supported me, even when it went against Rokath’s wishes.

He gave the barest shake of his head.

I was on my own to convince my mate to hear me. “The Giver blessed me with something so powerful and unique, and the Weaver tied our fates together. This is what I am meant to do.”

“I don’t care,” Rokath snarled, his ire raining directly on me. “I want you safe. If they lay a hand on you again, I will raze their realm to the ground. I will not fail to protect you again.”

The grapes plunked against the plate as I threw them down. It appeared that some of our contention still remained, despite our confession of feelings. “Then teach me to fight. To use my magic to its fullest extent. You started before, so why not continue to do so now?”

Rokath shot to his feet, knocking his chair straight over. The dogs startled and scattered as he leaned over me, using his bulk for intimidation, like I’d seen him do so many times before.

But he didn’t scare me.

I lifted my chin and met his dark, furious gaze.

“Your place isn’t in the middle of another battlefield, Assyria. Not after what they did to you.” His words were slow, measured, controlled, but hidden beneath them was barely-restrained fear.

My lips curled back from my teeth. “My place is where I fucking want it to be. You keep saying you love me, but when I try to stand beside you, you shove me behind.”

He said nothing, only glared down at me. Because he knew, he fucking knew, I was right.

“You chose the army over me before. Don’t make that mistake again,” I hissed, nails biting into the wooden arm of my seat.

He flinched like I’d struck him and stepped away. While he righted his chair, he counted to ten in his mind, as he always did when he was trying to calm himself to speak rationally. “We could capture a few Angel females for you to impersonate,” he gritted out, each word struggling to break the barrier of his throat.

Victory was so close I could almost taste it. Though the thought of venturing into the Angel’s camp alone flipped my stomach. What if they captured me again? They probably wouldn’t let me go so easily—probably not at all.

The acrid stench of burnt flesh rose from my memories, along with the screams of the fifty thousand who had been slaughtered without mercy.

A turbulent mix of anxiety and excitement tumbled through my veins. On the one hand, what Rokath was suggesting was a massive concession for him. On the other, the trauma of being captured, nearly raped, used as a pawn, and forced to watch the Angels slaughter tens of thousands in front of me still lingered.

What would they do the next time, now that they knew possession of me meant they were Rokath’s puppeteer?

I swallowed down my fear and locked my spine straight. “And you won’t let me go alone?”

Rokath shook his head and dropped back into his seat. “Absolutely not. I would never ask or allow you anywhere near them alone. I promised to protect you, and that is what I will do, now and forever.”

The sincerity in his gravelly voice was evident. I glanced at his hands, where a pink scar decorated the very center. The spots where Zaph had staked him were almost healed. He flexed his fingers as if he sensed I was considering his use of them.

“So that’s a yes? I can help?” I questioned, needing to hear him say the words so I would know they were real.

He pinched the bridge of his nose, a riot of emotion blazing down our bond. “Every protective instinct is screaming at me to say no. But I’m trying to do better, be better for you.” A long pause held my breath captive. “So my answer is yes.”

Excitement flitted through me. Finally, fucking finally. No more suffering in silence. I’d choke those who had been so vocal about Rokath’s decision to allow us places in the army with my presence.

“Thank you, Rokath.” I threw my arms around his broad shoulders, fingertips barely brushing. With a sigh, he pulled me closer and buried his nose into the base of my neck, where my hair tumbled to cover his face.

He inhaled deeply, and his shoulders relaxed the barest amount. “If you are to tread the alleys with Angels all around you, I must ensure that your mastery of your magic is flawless.”

When he released me, his attention turned to Rapp. “We’ll have to send a unit out to initiate a small skirmish to capture some females. The sooner we can start training Assyria, the better.”

Again nausea rose. More Demons would die because of me. Yet if I could mimic the form of an Angel, sneak into their camp, and rescue Banand and Zurronar, thousands upon thousands—if not millions—of lives could be saved.

The choice was an easy one.

“Aye, we’ll discuss it with the Parancsok this evening. By then they should have rallied their scouts to depart at nightfall. Hopefully in the morning we’ll have a better map of their camp. Then it will put your mind at ease with Assyria,” Rapp replied, drumming his fingers on the table. He picked up one of the stones on the map and tossed it back and forth.