“I love you, little imposter. In this life and all the rest.”

I had to tell her one last time. Because I might never be able to again.

Fury and fear twisted our bond tight. An all too familiar scream ripped through the night, and my stomach plummeted. Ishim’s attention ripped toward the main battle as another feminine one sounded—but that one did not belong to mate.

“Assyria!” I shouted down our bond.

Shadows ripped through the slashes of white overhead. A small, dark silhouette flew through the night a heartbeat later, slamming into Ishim. The two skidded along the length of rock. Daggers clattered. Bronze flashed as Ishim’s attacker stabbed. Silver followed. An agonized shriek shredded me to pieces. Over and over they tumbled, battling for leverage, as they careened toward the edge of the cliff.

“No!” I roared, lunging for them. I slammed against the ground, denting my armor and punching the breath from my lungs. My hands scrambled for purchase around a pair of boots.

But the leather was slick with crimson. My palms even more so.

And my mate fell.

Swallowed whole by the abyss beneath me.

In the mountains, the drops were long. A pulse of pain dug into our bond before ebbing.

For a moment, all I could do was lie there. Numb. detached. Disbelieving that after everything, fucking everything, the Reaper had taken her from me.

One tear slipped out. Then another. By the third, I was no longer the Halálhívó, the most feared Demon in all of Keleti. I was a shattered husk of a male, begging his Fates to weave any other path.

“Assyria,” I croaked, her name a desperate, broken plea.

I didn’t want to live in a world without her. Without my little imposter. The female who had so ungraciously upended my life, threatening to kill me from our very first interaction.

My world narrowed to the end of that ledge. The sweet relief it promised me. The chance to see her again in my next life.

Yet, through my addled power, a flicker snatched my attention. The faintest of tugs had me dragging myself forward, peering into the void. Overhead, Angel magic flashed, illuminating two burgundy eyes.

And one bloody arm barely hanging on the rim of a jutting rock beneath me.

“Can you fucking help?” my mate shot up at me.

The next tear that slipped out carved relief into my cheek.

“Can you fly?” I shouted.

“He sliced me with silver as we went down, I don’t know that I can call on my wings,” she said, brows pinching as she desperately held my gaze.

That protective beast inside me roared to life.

I will not let her fall to her death.

Gritting my teeth, I yanked on all the magic remaining in my well and pulled my black, membranous wings into existence. In seconds, I sailed over the ledge, dropping straight to my mate. When I captured her waist in my arms, I’d never been more grateful to feel the curves of her body pressed against mine.

Sweat slicked my skin as I flew us upward, the magic of our mate bond the only thing keeping me going. The rock cracked from the force of our landing. We tumbled to the ground, and with the last of my strength, I hauled Assyria on top of me so she wouldn’t be crushed beneath my bulk.

Breath heaved in and out of my lungs from the force of my exertion. Yet I couldn’t tear my gaze away from Assyria.

Stained with crimson, coated in dark dirt, and with eyes of devious burgundy shining down at me, I couldn’t decide if I wanted to kiss her or spank her.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” I berated her through a chest still constricted by a vise.

“I saved your life. You’re welcome,” she shot back, grinning with wild abandon. “Oh, and I killed another Myrza too. She was planning on doing what I did, but to you.”

Rage battled with relief inside me as I crushed her against me. My heart thudded so hard against my armor, I was certain it would beat right out of the metal casing. “Do not do that again.”

I could almost feel her eyes rolling. “Let go of your magic now before you exhaust yourself. The wall is holding and the space between the stone and the trees is clear.”

I had the moment I leaped for her, because she was the most precious thing in this entire world and I’d rather burn out every last drop on saving her.

“Then we need to press on,” I told her. “We’re not in Sivy yet, and there are still more Angels standing between our current position and the capital.”

Releasing the tension in my arms, I allowed her out of my hold, though I hated every inch of space between us.

She let out a small laugh as she ran a hand over the new dents in the black metal on my chest. “You’re going to hate this when you see it in the light.”

I sighed and shook my head. “Where did you leave the rest?”

“Up there,” she jerked her head in the direction of the wall. “Figured you’d want to regroup before advancing.”

She wasn’t wrong.

With a groan, I pressed to my feet, swaying slightly as I put weight on my injured leg. But the wound wasn’t deep, and enough time had passed that the silver’s effects were wearing off.

“Come, let’s find the others.” I slipped my hand around hers and hobbled off the cliffs—before any more crazy ideas sprouted in her mind. She tucked close to my side, letting me lean into her for support.

Bodies littered the ground as we trudged uphill, my lungs and legs burning from the exertion of the last few hours. When we emerged into the clearing, I found most of the Deathveiled huddled together, Olet among them.

And, to my utter surprise, Banand and Araquiel.

“Halálhívó,” they greeted me in unison. Every single one dropped to a knee and rested their foreheads on their arms before rising.

“I’ve never seen you wield so many at once before,” Olet said, awe lining his tone. Then his attention fell to the garnet dripping down my leg. He reached into a pocket of his fighting jacket and pulled out a vial of green.

All I could do was gaze upon my bold, beautiful mate, even as I gulped down the pium. “Well, I’ve never had someone to protect like this before.”

She grinned up at me, though sorrow glistened in her eyes. And our bond told me exactly where it originated.

“Who did we lose?” I asked, attention flitting among the group to see if I could figure for myself. “Where is Zurronar?”

Araquiel dipped her gaze briefly, clearing her throat. “I lost him in our roll. I couldn’t find him.” Her voice was thick and heavy. Banand closed his eyes, tipping his head toward the sky. The two had been through horrors too awful to speak together. Even before that, they’d been inseparable.

To lose Zurronar now, after I’d promoted him again, after he’d continued to fight in the army, carrying his untarnished honor, was a massive blow.

Araquiel hugged his side, and yet he still didn’t lower himself to this moment with us. Grief on the battlefield was a risk, and one he knew all too well. Death was inevitable, as much as we loathed losing the ones we loved.

Assyria sniffed, wiping at her eyes. I squeezed her hand, letting her know I was there. I wanted her to feel. Wanted Banand to feel. And all the rest too.

But the war wasn’t won yet.

“We lost a few thousand. Lots of archers, fewer ground soldiers,” Olet reported. “Though the Angel casualties were far higher.”

I scanned the area, noting the sheer number of white haired bodies face-down in the soaked earth.

“We need to move out. We can beat them back to Sivy if we move quickly. Send a group of able-bodied to fetch horses, wagons, and other supplies. The rest need to reform and follow us immediately. The night is long, and we have an advantage in the dark.”

“Yes, sir.” Olet saluted me, then turned on his heel and jogged up the hill. Wings sprouted from his back, and he swept toward the wall, sounding off orders.