“So…he’s listening?” she questioned, almost like she couldn’t believe it. Fuck, I wasn’t sure if I did either.

“If there are fallen among those stationed at the outpost closest to Uzhhorod, then yes.”

A watery smile bloomed on her face, and something between a sob and a laugh choked out of her. “I did it.”

“You did, little imposter.” Wrapping my arms around her tiny frame, I pulled her in tight. A mosaic of emotion flooded our bond. I welcomed it, letting her pour everything into me.

A light tap sounded on the outer door, and Kiira appeared in the entry. “Is everything okay?” she asked, studying how I embraced Assyria.

My mate pulled away from me and beamed at my cousin. “More than alright. You should sit down.”

Brows pinched, she rounded the table and dropped into a seat near Rapp. Trol cleared his throat and excused himself to attend to helping the Parancsok sort through the new arrivals.

He shut the door behind him, giving us privacy.

Rapp brought the box out from his lap and slid it to Kiira. “Fair warning, the contents are…gruesome.”

She eyed it warily, attention bouncing between the three of us. “What is it?”

“A present from Xannirin,” I stated. “There’s also a note, though none of us spotted it in the split second we looked inside. If you want Rapp or me to extract it for you, we can.”

Kiira’s mouth thinned. Reaching for the box, she brought it closer. She hesitated for only a moment before flicking the latch. Then, with a sigh, she lifted the lid.

A small shriek fled her as she slammed it shut, much like Rapp had done. “Is that what I think it is?” she questioned, her voice shaky.

“Yes,” Rapp replied, taking it from her. “Do you want the note?”

“Later,” she said, her skin taking on a sickly sheen. “I need to go lie down. Assyria, do you need to as well?”

My mate jumped to her feet immediately. “Of course, it’s been a long ride. Rokath, where can we sleep?”

“I’ll show you the way and leave the dogs with you too. Rapp and I need to go help Trol. He’s worked hard enough lately and deserves a break.”

“That he does,” Rapp agreed, rising without a single sway or pained expression.

Thankfully, the nicest rooms were only one passage away from the command center. Trol had secured one for himself, leaving the other three empty for us. I opened the door to the one typically used by the highest ranking officer in residence. It wasn’t anything special compared to how we had been living at the military academy, but it was clean with an attached bathing chamber.

“We’ll have your belongings sent up once we step out,” I promised my cousin and my mate.

“Thanks,” Assyria shot back, her arms around Kiira, who nodded weakly. “I’ll let you know if we need anything else.”

I brushed my lips against her temple, then left the females alone in my room. Rapp fiddled with the rings in his lip as we walked away. “Hold on a second. Left my dagger in the command center.” He trotted off without waiting for a response.

I watched him go, suspicion curling in my gut as I noted the blade attached to his hip, as it always was. Yet I remained still. The chill of the winter mountains crept down my spine. He returned moments later, red-faced and teeth raking over his lip.

“Did you find it?” I asked casually as he strode past me.

“Yes.” The word was short, clipped. I shook my head and let it go as we stepped into the sunshine.

We found Trol and slipped back into our normal army routines like we’d never been away at all. By the time dusk fell, I’d almost forgotten about Rapp’s odd behavior and how severely the Kral felt threatened by my mating bond with Assyria.

Yet dread coiled around my ribs like an icy wire. The Angels hadn’t merely retreated out of our realm into their own. They’d disappeared like locusts at the end of a plague, hidden away until their next attack.

And I had no fucking idea when that was coming.

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47

Ahush fell as I shut us in. Like even the air needed a moment to recover from Xannirin’s “present.” Rokath bled males before my eyes. Gifted me feathers and bones as tokens of his adoration.

Yet this was…different. Disgust curled in my stomach, hot and sour. Kiira’s lower lip trembled, and she swayed on her feet. Stumbling toward the bed, the High Priestess collapsed onto it. A whimper shuddered in her chest, and she clutched at her heart like she could stop it from hurting her.

In two swift strides, I was there, settling beside her. Her locks spilled like ink onto the blankets. I gathered them gently, twisting them into a knot like I was binding her wound that refused to heal. “You’re safe now. He’s dead.”

“I know,” she whispered through a broken sob. “I–I wasn’t ready. Not for that. Not like that.”

Grem and Zeec hopped up to the mattress, tearing a creak from the bedframe. With a low whine, Grem nudged Kiira’s hands, forcing her to put them in his fur. Zeec curled up beside me, his body warm against the chill.

“That makes sense. Feel what you need to feel,” I told her, drawing circles on her back as soft as the petals of a rose. Words I’d once ached to hear, but no one ever spoke. Thankfully for me, finding purpose in leadership, even while I’d been impersonating Vagach, had healed so much of my feeling voiceless.

Learning to fight had done the same for Kiira. Yet the feeling of being powerless, the memories of it, never truly faded completely. Panic gripped my throat as I felt hands around my waist, yanking me away from safety. The smell of blood flooded my nostrils. The stench of alcohol burned my throat. The moment Vagach had been about to rape me before I killed him surfaced, as piercing as it had been when I flashed back to the moment in front of Rokath. He’d grabbed me from behind, triggering the visceral reaction, but instead of hurting me, he’d pulled me back from the abyss. Told me to find him in the dark.

“Does it make you feel better that Xannirin did it?” I murmured, smoothing back her hair.

She shook her head, cries softening into hiccups. “I don’t know that I want to read his note either.”

“I can read it for you, if you want.”

An exhale, shaky and slow, slipped out of her as she sat upright. With the back of her long sleeves, she dried her eyes. I went to the bathing chamber and returned with a cloth. She blew her nose into it before casting it aside like it carried too much. “No. I should. Just not today.”

“Fair enough.” I heeled out of my dirty boots. Kiira sat forward and yanked hers off. They plopped against the floor, joining mine in a pile. Then she flopped back, arms across her stomach and staring up at the ceiling. Grem rested his head there too, and Kiira absently stroked his fur.

I settled beside her, noting the whorls in the plaster over our heads. The bed itself wasn’t terrible—a little firmer than what we’d slept on in Fured but infinitely better than the rock Rokath called a mattress in the war camp. After weeks of riding, it honestly felt good on my back. I shifted a little and let out a groan as my neck and shoulders started to relax. Zeec huffed against my hair as he made himself comfortable too.

Kiira snickered. “No one tells you how grueling riding all day is.”

“No, they don’t,” I replied. “You’d think I’d be accustomed to it by now.”

“You did have a few months break,” Kiira pointed out.

“True.” I paused for a moment, weighing my next words. “Do you want to talk about what happened any more?”

Kiira was silent for a long moment. I turned my head to look at her, watching the tears spill over her cheeks. “I think just sitting here would be nice.”

“That I can do,” I promised, reaching out and giving her hand a squeeze.