The pained expression he wore, the ecstasy flooding our bond, and the sight of him giving me everything fractured me. With a cry, my orgasm ripped through me, burning up every thought, every worry, every reminder that we were fighting for something larger than ourselves beyond these walls.

I bit down so hard on my knuckles that I drew a hint of blood. Rokath’s hardness pulsed inside me. He groaned—deep, feral, destroyed—and came. With a harsh jerk, he pulled out. My pussy ached at his absence. Hot cum gushed over my stomach.

Dizzy and pleasure-drunk, I lay beneath my mate. Salt slicked our skin, and air burned our lungs. Blinking, awareness returned to me. Something sharp dug into my shoulder. I tilted my head, registering the chaos and fractured furniture.

“Oops,” I giggled, pressing the back of my palm into my mouth to stem the flow.

Rokath shook his head and shoved off the ground. His muscles flexed deliciously with the motion, and I wanted nothing more than for him to bury himself inside me again so I could claw at those carved peaks and valleys.

Instead, he reached down and hauled me upright. After a moment’s consideration, he swept my legs out from under me and carried me into the bathing chamber. “Can’t have you stepping on something and being out of commission for our next fight. Need you there.”

The sentiment spread warmth from my scalp to my toes.

Rokath opened the taps for the tub. I slid down his sweat-soaked body and stepped into it. Despite the small size, he joined me, pulling me into his arms.

“I needed that,” he admitted, brushing a kiss to the top of my head.

“I can’t lose you.” My voice cracked. Even after everything—the battles, the late nights spent reshaping the realm, the small moments between—that fear still had its claws buried deep. It didn’t matter how powerful I had become in my own right. How I’d united my sex and forced the males to accept us. How the mythos of us had spread like a wildfire.

If Rokath died, I wouldn’t merely grieve. My soul would be shattered into a thousand tiny shards. Each would rip up my chest and leave me breathless. I’d be broken, bleeding, and desperate to join him in the next life.

His heart hammered against my cheek, and I clung to it. Because it meant he was alive. Still here. Still with me.

Because the Angels were out there. Watching. Waiting. Plotting.

Who knew if or when we’d snatch a moment like this again.

All I knew was that if he fell, I would follow.

There was no him without me, or me without him.

OceanofPDF.com

50

“The scouts have spotted Angels here, here, and here,” Trol said, moving pieces of stone around the map on the table.

“Which means they’re likely going to try to breach our holds in these outposts,” I reasoned, tapping three spots between our current location and Uzhhorod. If they’d speared so far south already, they were moving quickly. Which meant we needed to as well. “And they were all clustered in those groups? Nothing more?”

“No,” Rapp replied, tongue working over the rings in his lips as he studied the board with us. We’d sent everyone else away so we could focus on how to divide the battalions and ensure the survival of the Demon race. “I flew out with one of the scouts early this morning to see the closest group for myself. They seem like they’re priming for a three pronged attack.”

I opened my mouth to admonish him for pushing himself but he shot me a glare. “I am fine. My chest held up fine. Honestly I feel almost back to normal now. All the pium worked its magic.”

“Good.” A bit of tension bled from my chest. Because the last thing I wanted was to throw Rapp into a battle on his own, unable to swing a sword, pull a bow, or fly through the air. His knowledge and skill in aerial battle was paramount now that we were among the jagged peaks.

The words I needed to say still sat heavy on my tongue. “We need to split up again.”

Rapp and Trol picked their gazes up from the table. “Unfortunately, you’re right,” Rapp sighed, sinking into a chair. “I don’t see any other way around it. Which means they’re planning something.”

“Since they were able to wipe out a large section when we split last time, Zahal Ishim must think he can have success with the maneuver again,” I grumbled. He was a fucking horsefly that needed to be squashed before it could attempt to bite again.

“Aye,” Trol affirmed. He dragged the marker that indicated his position to the closest one. “I’ll take a smaller section here. With my magic, it will be easier to herd the Angels in a way that makes them easier to kill. You’ll need larger forces closer to Uzhhorod.”

He wasn’t wrong. “We’ll set some traps along the way. Help pick off the more powerful groups to aid you.”

“Thank you,” he replied, his focus still on the map. “With the females and other magic wielders from Fured spread evenly, that should help quell any protests about who goes where.”

“I’ll take the ones still harboring resentments with me. If they don’t get on board with the plan, they can become my puppets on the battlefield,” I groused, pinching the bridge of my nose. At least after our display, the males had quietened. The females, despite the dropping temperatures, strutted around with their sleeves rolled up, their devious eye tattoos on full display. On my way in, I’d even seen one of the Vezető sporting one.

Rapp snorted, shaking his head. “The peaks are highest and most dangerous near Uzhhorod. I’ll take that section. If you don’t mind, I’ll also need more of the fliers.”

“Take as many as you need,” I told him. The three spots we were guessing the Angels would go to were spread at odd intervals along the wall, and unfortunately, Trol would be the farthest away again. But with the positions Rapp and I would hold, we’d be so fucking close to Sivy. Should we beat the Angels back, we’d be primed to take the city. Kiira’s vision would come to pass. This would finally end, and I could enjoy the rest of my life with Assyria.

“What if they backtrack and try to take out Trol’s position since he’ll be the furthest from aid?” I threw out, wanting to check my logic.

“They could, but then they’d descend straight into the Paks Desert, and that path would not serve them to reach Uzhhorod,” my Hadvezér commented. He paused, rubbing the back of his neck. “Unless they took the wall and marched south along it, to pin your groups.”

“So we need to watch out for that to happen,” I mused. “How many mated pairs do we have now?”

A wry grin spread across Trol’s face. “You’ll never believe what I’m about to say.”

I raised a brow, glancing at Rapp. He sat up straighter, focus trained on the other Hadvezér.

“By all means, speak,” I prodded. Whatever information he possessed, it was clearly important.

“We got about a dozen new pairs in the last few days.” His words robbed me of air.

“You’re joking,” Rapp shot back. We shared a look like we couldn’t decide if he was pulling a mean prank for us leaving him alone so often.

Trol shook his head, still sporting a smug expression. “I am grateful that I’m not. Ask the High Priestess. She’ll tell you exactly what she told me—that it is a sign from the Fates that they want to ensure our victory.”

I sat there, stunned to silence. All this time, these priestesses were serving beneath Kiira, and all these males beneath me. We’d always struggled to communicate over such large distances. And now that we’d brought the sexes together, one of our largest issues had been solved. Sure, the male pairs had been useful, but there were far fewer bonds granted by the Fates than male and female pairings.

Is this how the Angels were able to coordinate so easily?