Never had I heard of such a pairing in all our histories.

“Why didn’t you say anything before?” I snarled, heat licking up my spine. “Are you still loyal to the Demons, Banand?”

“For this reason,” he snapped back, anger yanking him to his feet. All formal pretense vanished. “Of course I’m fucking loyal to the Demons. I suffered for months, protecting our people. You wouldn’t have trusted me if I’d told you when you rescued us. Besides, I’ve fought it since the moment it happened.”

I whirled on Zurronar. “You kept this hidden too. Who else knew?”

“Just me. None of the others who were with us the day it happened survived, I swear,” he said, raising his hands in surrender. “It was months after the plague began. She was new to the unit that was charged with guarding us. She ensured no one ever saw the mark on him either when they stripped him. It would have been just as dangerous for Araquiel to be discovered too.”

I took a threatening step forward, but Assyria pinned me with a glare. “He has a point. But,” she paused, turning her wrath on the two, “I saw Araquiel without clothes when I was trying to become her. She bore no mark.”

Banand hung his head, unable to meet her gaze. “Did you put shackles on her yourself?”

“No,” I ground out, heat gripping my neck and shoulders. “Why?”

“She’s an incredibly powerful Sensor. If you didn’t put them on yourselves, she probably used her magic to trick whomever thought they did. Then kept influencing everyone to ensure they still thought she had them on,” Banand explained, his shoulders slumping inward

I didn’t think. Just lunged like a venomous snake. I gripped him by the throat and shoved him backward. Metal clattered from the collision. “All this time, you left us exposed? Left the camp at risk?”

“I put some on the moment I realized she wasn’t actually wearing anything!” he protested, his complexion deepening into a midnight purple. “That is reason enough to give me the benefit of the doubt, is it not?”

Shadows slammed into the crook of my arm, forcing me to release him. I ripped my attention to my mate, whose magic licked up my torso and clamped like a collar. Tight. Possessive. Deadly.

“So whose side is she on then?” Her interrogation was sharper than the blades scattered around us.

“I don’t know. Not exactly the Angels. Not exactly ours. Obviously, the Angels want to exterminate us, which would mean me included. There are no exceptions in their plans,” he coughed, clutching the workbench for support.

I forced myself to put space between me and the two near-traitors so I didn’t fucking kill them.

Rapp and Kiira burst into the weapons storage, my cousin’s eyes wide and lips parted. “Is it true? You have an Angel mate? And three crows flew by?” Her brows creased as she studied the scene before her. Assyria surrendered her bind around me.

“Yes,” Banand hissed, jerking his shirt up high enough to flash the High Priestess his mate mark.

She approached, tracing it with her finger. “Fates…” she whispered, her eyes growing distant. I studied her for any sign that a vision might be overtaking her. I wouldn’t let her collapse and injure herself against the hard floor. Rapp seemed to have the same thought, because he eased closer. “There hasn’t been an Angel-Demon pairing in at least two thousand years. Their offspring was the first Seer…”

Rapp swore under his breath.

“I thought there had never been one?” I bit out.

She shook her head. “Our grandfather never allowed the writings to be made public, but I still retain copies in my library at Varbad Temple. The insight in them was important to my magic.”

“So that’s what kicked off the Age of Prophecy?” I clarified. It was a subject I hadn’t paid much attention to, preferring to study texts of war and battle since it was more important for my role in society.

She nodded, twisting her unbound locks around her finger and securing them at the base of her neck. “That Age is still ongoing, alongside the Age of War. One of those books foretells the end of both, though the words are vague enough that I’ve never been able to make sense of them, save for that there is an end.”

“Do they happen together?” Assyria prodded, leaning forward.

“No.” Kiira stepped away from Banand at last. “Where is your mate?”

“With the other prisoners at the moment,” he grumbled, his tone more bitter than many of the potions brewed by the healers.

“Which is where she will stay until you can convincingly promise us that she will not betray us to the Angels,” I growled, crossing my arms. “Can she listen to us right now?”

“No,” Banand snapped. “We both keep our mental barriers firmly in place. Not to mention I think in Demonic and she thinks in Angelic. Neither of us exactly want this. We both have a lot to hide from one another.”

He met each of our gazes in turn, his eye contact strong and steady as if he were imploring us to see his truth.

“Unfortunately, the Halálhívó is right. But this was what we were going to challenge you with to earn your place as a Parancsok. Both of you,” Rapp sighed, rubbing the back of his neck.

“We can do it,” Zurronar promised after a moment’s consideration. “We’ve treated them far better than they treated us, at least. Our actions alone should tell them we’re not the animals they think we are.”

“Tell no one of your bond,” I warned Banand.

“Trust me, I won’t.” His jaw was set hard, and his focus drifted to the floor. Assyria’s shoulders softened, along with her expression. And fuck if I didn’t feel bad for him too, just a little bit. I’d gone insane those first months with Assyria, fighting myself over the primal need to protect her, to possess her, to claim her.

Banand had suffered tremendously. First, being forced to create a plague to wipe out his brethren. Then, a mating bond with his sworn enemy snapping into place.

“Will you make an oath to the Reaper?” I challenged him.

“Anything,” he swore, finally lifting his gaze. The desperation in his eyes hit me like a blow. He wanted to be believed, to be trusted. The guilt he had initially carried made much more sense now. And why he was struggling to use his magic.

I drew a dagger from my hip and returned to the piles of bones I’d prepared for Assyria’s throne. Banand did the same and stood across from me. Without hesitating, I cut deep into my palm and let the garnet droplets splatter over the white.

“You will obey mine and the Szélhámos’s command, and all those we appoint to speak in our name,” I began.

Banand sliced deeper, spilling more of his blood over the Angel remnants. To his credit, he didn’t even flinch or give them a second thought. “I swear upon my life, the life of my mate, that I will not speak of my bond outside of this circle of knowledge. I take full responsibility for her actions, and should either of us betray the Demon cause, let the Reaper’s eye fall over us.”

I held out my hand, and he clasped it. I squeezed harder and sent more ruby splattering from both of us. What better way to seal this oath than into my mate’s throne?

“May the Reaper curse you should you break this oath.”

He knelt, resting his forehead on his bent arm. “Halálhívó, my sword has always been and will always be yours. The Szélhámos’s too. For I proclaimed her as such, she will always have my devotion.”

I jerked my head, and Assyria hopped down from her position atop a workbench and joined me. He lifted his gaze and planted it firmly on my mate. “Allow me to remain part of your guard, Szélhámos, and I swear I will give my life for yours should the time come.”

“Convince Araquiel to join us, and you shall keep your spot,” she told him. The command in her voice, the confidence in her posture, the curl of her lips made my dick harden.

“Aye, Szélhámos. You have my word.” With that, he rose. “If you’ll give me leave, I’d like to speak with her now.”