Trol flattened his palms on the table and stared at the map carved into the middle. “Every outpost is still manned, currently.”

“But?”

“But their numbers are dwindling with frequent raids from the Angels.”

“All of them?” I clarified.

Trol nodded. “They all need reinforcements, and I sent the first wave out with the rider upon his departure. But I suspect they’ll need more.”

He paused for a moment, jerking on the collar of his jacket. The officers around the table held their breath. My shoulders tightened as I waited for what else he had to say.

“Speak freely,” I insisted, but the grating in my tone contrasted the encouragement I wanted to deliver.

Trol swallowed, unable to meet my gaze. “I have no idea where the Angels have gone.”

“What do you mean? How the fuck do you lose an army?” My voice didn’t rise, but the chill in them silenced even the burning logs at my back. My fingers dug into the wood, turning my tattooed knuckles white.

Trol didn’t answer right away. Assyria reached for me, peeling my hand off the table. I forced myself to release a breath through clenched teeth.

“Only a handful remain at their base over the wall. Once they reached the foothills, they took to the skies for their retreat. With the high sun, we couldn’t see where they went.”

Fuck.

The Myrza had proclaimed that one of their Seers had delivered a prophecy of a battle within the mountains. Clearly, they weren’t simply regrouping to force us closer and seek out weak points in our defenses. They were spreading out to find the location of this final stand.

Technically, the wall was a neutral zone. Each side had outposts or small cities along its length, but set back into our respective territories. Since our rise to power, I’d ensured that the Demons had gained control of most of it, allowing our riders to pass freely without fear of running into a group of Angels attempting to patrol its tops.

My mind worked over this new information, weighing each outcome and possibility. I doubted they’d attempt to go south of Sivy and Uzhhorod, preferring to brave the peaks between the capitals in an attempt to bring about a swift end. The Skala Mountains rose to a crescendo at the end of Keleti, making travel through their peaks nearly impossible.

No, the foretold battle would occur in the north.

“If we don’t have eyes on them, we need to do that, and quickly. I doubt they’ve left us without surveillance,” I ground out around clenched teeth. “Which means they’ll know of our arrival.”

I paused, reaching for Assyria’s hand. Despite the twisting in my gut, I knew what I was about to say was the right thing to do. “We’ll spread along the length of the wall. My mate will assist us in fighting through this rough terrain.”

Assyria lifted her chin and offered them all a devious smile. “I’ve learned quite a few tricks since our last meeting.”

“Is that so?” Trol asked, a wry grin tugging at his war-hardened lips.

In seconds, she wore my face like a prophetic mask. Many of the officers started at the sudden duplicity of me. Rapp pressed his fist to his mouth to hide his amusement.

“But that’s not all.” From my shaved head, white hair fell, and my burgundy eyes turned aquamarine. Tattoos melted away, revealing the regal face of the Myrza. “I’ll lure the zealots into my trap and we’ll kill them all, save for one. They will return to their camp, spouting off nonsense about one of their own betraying them,” she said in Demonic.

The unnerved expressions at seeing this Angel’s face speaking our language, was understandable.

“What…are you?” one of the officers breathed, studying Assyria with rapt fascination.

“An Imposter. The Szélhámos.” She returned to herself. “The female who is going to bring the Angel army to its knees.”

A grin—vicious, feral, possessive—rose to my lips as I watched my mate. My equal. My Fate.

“We’ll need to capture a few more Angel officers as well so we can perpetuate this story. Make them tear themselves apart from the inside,” I furthered, detailing the hard-wrought design Rapp, Assyria, and I had discussed during our travels.

“It’s a good plan,” one of the Parancsok commented. “My units will be thrilled to join any missions you require of us.”

“I’m glad you said that,” I began. “Because with us, we have several thousand powerful magic wielders who just so happen to be female. They held their own against the Angels in the Battle of Fured, and I want to ensure the units here embrace them. Who will take them on, and who needs to be reminded that my word is law?”

Several commented that their males would accommodate, while others noted they still struggled with sections of their battalions. I made a mental note to visit them with Assyria as soon as possible.

After that, we ventured into logistics. How many units we’d send to each outpost both to the north and south of our current location. What weapons needed to go where. The number of healers, cooks, and clothiers to disperse. I moved markers across the map until I was satisfied with the placement of them all.

“Everyone remembers the fire signals, yes?” It had been nearly a decade since we’d had so many soldiers at the wall. At intervals along the way, massive basins waited to be lit. The communication was far faster than sending ravens, especially during times of strife.

“Red for imminent attack. Gold for requesting aid. Blue for sickness. Green for storms. White for diplomatic approach. Smoke for lost position,” a different Parancsok listed off.

“And if we lose a guard tower or section, we must press forward on either side and retake it as quickly as possible,” I reminded them.

They nodded their acknowledgement.

“Good. We’ll spend the rest of the day integrating the new magic-wielding units into your battalions. Gauge their responses, and when we meet in the morning, we’ll decide who to send where.” My focus locked on the map of Keleti carved into the table and the stones dotting the length of the wall that divided the realms. “Remember we have the power. We have the positions. And we have us.” I indicated my mate and me as I snapped my gaze to each of the officers in turn. “With our combined powers, we are unstoppable. Relay that to those who dissent.”

Then, I straightened to my full height. Assyria too rose, uniting our front. “Dismissed.”

Chairs scraped. Boots thudded. Murmurs drifted as the Parancsok coordinated their next tasks.

My two Hadvezér lingered. “What’s in the box?” Trol asked when he was certain we wouldn’t be overheard.

“The dick and balls of a coward,” Rapp snarled. My gaze snapped to my Hadvezér. We hadn’t discussed it with one another, but he knew. To see his reaction now, as violent as my own—perhaps even more so—was interesting.

Trol didn’t even flinch. “Tell me how the integration actually went so we know what to prepare for here.”

Assyria huffed a laugh and collapsed into her chair. “What we really need to prepare for is the males trying to seduce their new female compatriots. I swear, if I have to deal with another fight over one…”

Rapp chuckled, his dark mood dissipating. “We’ll have a tough time with that here. Most of these males haven’t been with a female for a year or longer.”

“We need to ensure everyone remembers why sexual activities are discouraged in the war camp,” I groused, pinching the bridge of my nose. “And that if it is non-consensual, the punishment is death, per a new decree from the Kral.”

Assyria bolted upright, her earnest gaze trained on me. Tears welled in those gorgeous almond-shaped eyes. I brushed the backs of my knuckles across her cheek, capturing one as it fell. “The Kral has also seen to it that all fallen are released from their compulsory duty.”

“Really?” she breathed.

“Written in his hand,” I murmured, stroking her soft skin.