My eyes narrowed on the former as he held the hands of the turquoise-eyed female, Araquiel, as she leaped to the ground. Their gazes met for the briefest of moments before Araquiel ripped them apart. Banand’s expression was pained before he smoothed it away. He’d already admitted to having some affection toward her, but this looked different…

Grem and Zeec burst from between some wagons, tongues lolling and tails wagging. They circled the Angels, teeth flashing as they yipped. Some of the prisoners paid them no mind. Others shrank back.

Our bond tightened as Rokath approached. My body hummed from his presence, and I took a step closer to him. His attention drifted down to the Demons working below us. “We need more Angels for you to impersonate.”

Along the way, we’d picked up a handful of Bassi—the Angel equivalent of a Vezető. But it wasn’t enough to sway a swath, not like it had been when I’d used the form of the Myrza. According to the new captives, word of his betrayal had spread like a plague. Furious officers spent hours planning his demise before he could wreak further damage on morale and belief. The irony nearly made me laugh.

“We need to speak with Banand too,” I insisted, clocking the way his hand hovered near Araquiel’s lower back as he escorted her inside.

“Why?” Rokath murmured, bracing his forearm on the window and following my attention to the pair.

I hated that I understood the leverage of love. Of affection. Hated that I was considering using it. But if it meant that my friends would survive—the Demon race would survive—I’d use it. War was a game. The weak played it safe and clean. What I had to say could fall off the edge of the blade in one of two ways—glory or treason. I hoped it wouldn’t be the latter. “His affections for Araquiel seem to have deepened these past months. I wonder if we can turn her to our advantage.”

A growl vibrated deep in Rokath’s chest. “Now you’re really starting to think like a leader.”

I preened under that praise. “He and Zurronar have been helpful since they joined the raids with us too.”

“Aye, they have,” Rokath agreed. “After our meal and offering, we’ll grab them and bring them here.”

“What for?” Rapp asked, joining us in surveying the scene. Kiira was nowhere to be found.

Rokath gestured to where the two were corralling the Angels inside the barracks. “See if they can convince our prisoners to assist us.”

A wide grin split Rapp’s face. “That’s brilliant, Rokath.”

“It was all Assyria,” he told his Hadvezér. Pride etched his expression as his regard settled over me.

Rapp raised a brow, the studs above them catching in the midday light. “I’m impressed.” Then, he backhanded Rokath in the stomach. “I told you she was smart and would be useful to us all along.”

Rokath grumbled something under his breath, eliciting a bark of laughter from Rapp.

“Are you ever going to promote them?” I questioned, gesturing to Banand and Zurronar. Both had powerful magic, and after all, we were missing several Parancsok after the massive loss when Rokath chose me over his soldiers.

“I don’t see why not. Now is as good of a time as any,” Rapp shrugged, leaning his shoulder against the polished glass.

“Technically, we replaced them when we thought they were both dead. So they were officers before. Though Zurronar was only a Vezető,” Rokath pointed out.

“We have plenty of empty slots to fill,” Rapp countered. “Just because they aren’t now doesn’t mean they can’t be placed where they should be. From Trol’s accounts, both stepped up the moment they were well enough to do so after their rescue.”

My mate was silent for a long moment. His brows pinched ever so slightly, his mind working over all the possibilities and probabilities. “We’ll offer them a chance to earn new titles after we speak with them. See if they want the challenge.”

I rolled my eyes. Rokath very much believed in proving value, and if either could turn the Angels to our side, they certainly would have earned their title of Parancsok.

“I need a nap before lunch. Too many early mornings after too many late nights.” Rapp yawned, the motion nearly unhinging his jaw.

A weariness tugged at me too. “I can’t object to that. Besides, if we’re going to go out again tonight,” I looked at my mate, nodded in confirmation, “then I definitely need some sleep to replenish my magic.”

“Let’s go then. They’ll fetch us when it’s time to eat,” Rokath said. When he pivoted to exit the room he commented, “I see Kiira is already a step ahead of us.”

Rapp chuckled as we reentered the small officer’s floor. “Aye. She knows we’ll have a long ride ahead of us the day after tomorrow.”

Rokath halted, his boots squeaking against the newly-cleaned floor. My breath caught in my chest.

“She’s going with you?” His tone was far more measured than I thought him capable with the riot of emotions burning up our bond.

Rapp realized the error of his words a moment later. Kiira hadn’t wanted him to say anything to Rokath until the moment they were about to leave. True to my word, I hadn’t revealed a whisper of their budding relationship to my mate. Though Kiira hadn’t exactly been forthcoming either, so I couldn’t comment on anything more than their shared affections.

“What, you don’t think I’m capable of protecting her?” Rapp said, a hint of challenge in his tone that contrasted his neutral posture.

“After what happened to her?” Rokath ground out. “The only one who can protect her is me.” His nails dug into his palms.

Rapp scoffed. “And yet, you weren’t the one who ripped Ollmund Varrir’s balls off.”

Rokath took a menacing step toward his Hadvezér. “Neither were you.”

Rapp’s eyes flashed, and his lips curled back from his teeth.

I darted between the two, placing my hand on my mate. “We’re all tired. Let’s talk about this later?” I tightened my grip to get his attention, and he tore it to me.

“Fine,” he said through gritted teeth. Glaring up at him, I shoved him in the direction of the largest room, leaving Rapp standing in the middle of the hall. I hoped he’d go to a different room than the one Kiira had snuck into. Their being alone in the same room would only further my mate’s discontent.

I shut the door behind us and locked it as an added deterrent. Rokath’s jaw ticked, and his movements jerked as he stripped out of his armor. The moment his chest was bare, I shoved my finger into it. “You are an asshole. Kiira does not need to be coddled just because some spineless noble took from her what she did not want to give. You never treated me any differently because of it, so don’t do that to her.”

Rokath caught my wrist and tugged me into his embrace. With his other hand, he threaded his fingers through the hair at the nape of my neck. Pinned in place, he forced me to look deep into his eyes. “I will protect the people I love. No matter the cost.”

“That includes Rapp,” I pointed out.

He looked away, nostrils flaring.

“He will protect her too. They spend all their time together. He wrote to her more frequently than you did while we were marching to Lutsk. I think you can trust him not to let anything happen to her.” The last words slipped out as little more than a whisper as I sensed him starting to calm.

“I know,” he said, blowing out a long breath. “I just feel so guilty. I’ve spent so much time away, fighting. I had no idea so much was crumbling between Xannirin, Kiira, and me. Yet I was the only one who could safeguard us. Still am, really.”

He walked us to the bed. The mattress sank beneath his bulk. I climbed into his lap, straddling his hips, and walked my fingers to his temples. A small groan escaped him as I massaged the tight muscles there.

“You have me to support you now. You’re not fighting alone.”

“Out of the three of us, only my magic serves a purpose on the battlefield,” he murmured. “So it was always my responsibility to fight.”