The Angels grumbled amongst themselves in their tongue, muttering obscenities about the lawlessness and disrespect the Demons offered and why they shouldn’t have expected any different.

“Are you listening?” I asked Assyria through our mental connection. We’d practiced for hours over the past few days, and Assyria had put all her effort into learning. That she took this mission so seriously made me want to kiss her endlessly.

“Yes,” she replied. “One commented on Rapp’s piercings when he entered.”

“Very good,” I praised, my tone like a tumble of rocks into her mind.

Her tongue flicked out and wetted her lower lip.

Another minute passed, and then, I shifted my weight and rolled my shoulders. I’d waited long enough to prove my point. Releasing Assyria, I stepped forward and grasped the flap. “Search,” I barked at Grem and Zeec. Their tails wagged as they disappeared into the dim light. Assyria ducked under my arm a moment later, and I let the canvas smack closed behind me as we entered.

A cry of alarm rippled through the Angels as Grem and Zeec speared between them, taking long sniffs at their legs. Zeec stopped short in front of one and released a menacing growl. To my delight, it was Zaph. The insect flinched away as Zeec spun on his heel and trotted to his place on the left hand side of the throne of bones.

A low, menacing laugh rumbled in my chest as I strode into the room, a hand on Assyria’s lower back. All eyes ripped to me. I said nothing else as we stepped onto the dais. My mate’s expression was harder than the basalt pillars that held Gyor Palace together. Firmly locked on Zaph, she rounded the throne and stood on the right side of it, Grem at her feet. I turned my back on the Angels in a show of just how little threat they posed to me.

When I sank into the seat, I dug my fingers into the skulls at the edge of the arms, drawing their attention to their deceased brethren. A muscle feathered in the Zahal’s jaw, and his ice blue eyes were colder than the glaciers in the Skala Mountains. The leader of the Angel army was not an imposing figure; in fact, if I’d met him on the streets of Sivy, I’d have assumed he belonged to the merchant class at best. While he was tall, he was also lithe, with little by way of muscle to intimidate his adversaries. I could easily wrap my fist around his ribs and splinter him from the inside out.

I’d done nearly that to the female he cared for at the beginning of the war. Her skull was one of those at the front as an extra fuck you to him. The two of us had met here numerous times, and every time, his revulsion at what I had done was undisguised. As was his utter fury. “Zahal Ishim, my apologies for keeping you waiting.”

He scoffed, lips curling into a sneer. “We both know you were late on purpose, Halálhívó.” He spit out my title like it was a bitter potion. To him, to his Koron and Korona, my power was the ultimate demonstration of why the Demons were little more than animals and too impure to live in this world alongside them. To reanimate the dead was unholy, and to utilize my power on the battlefield, the greatest sin.

Yet they feared it all the same.

And somehow, his power of the Hive, to control the minds of the still-living and wield them as extensions of himself on the battlefield, was the holiest of gifts from their Goddess.

I reclined in the chair, exuding bored disinterest. “I waited long enough while your Padisa slaughtered my soldiers.” I didn’t deign to give Zaph my attention. He was unworthy of it.

The Zahal had the nerve to crack a grin. “Ah yes, that particular Padisa is now a Myrza for his successful endeavor to undercut your army.”

I fought the urge to roll my eyes. Flies buzzed to garner attention, yet they still only feasted on the decay left behind by others. Just like them, Zaph was no real killer. He hadn’t even raised his blade during the whole ordeal. “As you can see, my mate and I survived. An oversight, perhaps, on the Myrza’s part. Or perhaps he told you we perished alongside the rest before you offered him the title.” I offered a dismissive flick of my hand in his direction, like I was shooing him away. “But what’s done is done. And because of his actions, yet again, our retaliation will be twice as brutal as your paltry tricks could ever be.”

Something flashed across Zahal Ishim’s face as I reminded him precisely how the war had begun. How the inept Angel had dared ambush my battalion and decimate us then. He hadn’t realized that the Halálhívó stood among them, and by the time I’d wielded the dead to my advantage, it had been too late for him. Then, only Zaph had remained alive to carry a message to Ishim. The H I carved into his forehead served as a constant reminder to all those who dared forget my might.

Clearly, they needed another lesson.

I crossed an ankle over a knee and leaned into my elbow, digging pointedly into another Angel skull. “I’ll offer you a chance to retreat, if you want to live.”

Fury contorted Ishim’s features. “The ones who should retreat are you, Demon beasts.” He spit at my feet, and both my loyal hounds snarled, hackles raised.

Assyria didn’t flinch, merely continued to lift her chin and look down her nose at the handful of Angels standing before her. How I wanted them to bow at her feet, to beg for her forgiveness for what they had done.

Soon.

A dark, sinister growl rumbled in my chest. “Tread carefully, Ishim. I will not even allow your saliva to be close to my mate.”

“Then perhaps we will have to take her again. Only this time, she will not live,” he hissed, nearly vibrating with rage.

It was nothing compared to my own at his threat. Blood pounded in my ears and I clenched my teeth so hard I thought they might shatter. My hands twitched of their own accord, like they wanted to snap out and wrap around the Zahal’s neck.

His words were kindling to the fire I’d been stoking since before their arrival.

The Angels’ haughty, superior attitudes made them easy to anger. A trick I exploited to my advantage numerous times. “I’d like to see you try,” I taunted, keeping the fury inside me caged.

Beside me, Assyria stiffened. Before panic overtook her mind, I continued. “Should you dare again, I will personally rip your bones from within your body while you’re still alive. In fact,” I finally turned my attention to Zaph, “I think that’s what I’ll do to you anyway, Myrza. After I tear off your wings and offer them to my mate.”

Lust flooded our bond, and I flared my nostrils to suck in a steadying breath. Thank fuck the horned ebony helmet covered most of my face. I loved that Assyria was so aroused by my violence, especially for her. Because now that I’d admitted she was perfection incarnate, I wanted nothing more than to show her just how far I’d go to prove my love for her, my devotion to her, how I would protect her.

Because now this war held more meaning to me than ever before. Not only was I saving all the Demons from death, I was also saving my little imposter.

Zaph lunged forward, only to be stopped by a square smack to the chest by Ishim. The sound reverberated around the small, packed space. A grin bloomed on my face at the display—not that any of them could see it beneath my helmet.

I’d thoroughly rattled them in a few short sentences.

“You have something of ours, Halálhívó,” Ishim ground out, shooting a ‘calm the fuck down’ look to Zaph.

I’d wondered if he’d bring up the three captured females. “And what is that?” I asked, unwilling to admit anything.

“Three females. We saw you haul them away,” he snapped, finally removing his arm from Zaph’s body.

“Aye, we did. That was the first step of our retaliation. They’re all dead now after I allowed my soldiers a go at them. After all, they’ve been fighting for a long time and we don’t have any females here to keep them company.” All lies, but they didn’t know that.