I dipped the blade into the jar, wetting it with the oil, then flung drops all around us.

Banand chuckled and fetched a few long-stemmed candles from a nearby table.

“Light it up,” I told him, anger pounding through me. These fucking Angels would burn for how they’d treated my kith and me. “We’ll spread more on the way out.”

“Aye, mate of the Halálhívó,” Banand said, tipping the flame toward a wet spot on the dead Demon’s pants.

Careful not to spill any seed oil on my clothing, I retraced my steps to the front of the tent, where the others waited with Zurronar. Smoke billowed, thick and greedy, devouring everything around it. Banand emerged from the cloud at a jog, carrying two more candles. “Let’s get out of here.”

“Couldn’t agree more,” I quipped, calling on my magic to weave Araquiel’s face back over my own. A few of the males let out low coughs, and I smothered one of my own.

“Bury your faces in your shoulders,” Banand suggested, yanking up his dirty tunic to cover his nose. The others did as he suggested.

My shadows fell away, and a few gave me a wary glance as I became the Angel female again. “I’ll go first,” I croaked in Demonic, trying not to inhale the cloying air.

Using the back of my hand, I eased the entrance open, scanning for any indication that the two sentries had returned. When I found no sign of life, I slipped outside, only slightly disappointed I wouldn’t get to slice them up on our way out.

Once I was certain the area was clear, I held the flap open for the others.

“That way,” I pointed in the direction of the almond trees. “Hurry, we don’t have much time.”

The two hauling Zurronar between them rushed forward first, followed by the other three. Banand and I brought up the rear, spreading more fire in our wake. Shouts rang out in all directions as more and more smoke filled the sky.

A particularly large tent, the white broken up by a pattern of swirls, loomed ahead of us, and I beelined toward it. Dropping my dagger in the grass, I gripped both sides of the nearly empty jar and flung the remaining contents on the light fabric. Then, I tossed it down the alley, more oil spilling along the way. Banand threw one candle toward the jar and the other onto the massive spot on the tent. Flames ignited, the heat causing us to flinch back.

“That should take a while to put out,” I commented, satisfaction curling through me.

So maybe I hadn’t slaughtered any Angels today, but I’d burned their fucking camp and the prison they’d kept us in.

“Come on, we need to move,” Banand said, glancing around us. “Can’t have the Halálhívó kill me for failing to protect his mate after I am finally rescued, can I?”

I snorted and jogged alongside him, checking down each avenue we passed to ensure we weren’t being pursued. To my relief, no Angels appeared. The Fates were truly on my side for my first mission, a welcome change from how the rest of my life had unfolded.

The edge of the camp came into view, and the others crossed into the narrow strip of land between the tents and the trees.

“Faster!” Banand shouted. The males in front of us put on a burst of speed. My heart thudded against my ribs as Banand and I sprinted for cover, in close pursuit. My lungs burned from the smoke I had inhaled, and an ache blossomed between my ribs.

But I didn’t stop. Didn’t relent my pace. Not when the sweet scent of almonds began to overpower that of the earthy seed fire.

Our group burst into the orchard, chests heaving. The males leaned against thick trunks, slumping down to hide themselves from view. Banand went to Zurronar immediately, checking him over for any sign of his condition worsening.

“Rokath, I’ve got them!” I shouted down our bond. Doubled over, hands gripping knees, I sucked down air like I had water once we’d survived the harsh desert.

I turned to look back at the camp, mouth popping open when I noticed just how far our fire had spread. Screams filled the air, and I squinted, attempting to find the rest of the strike team among the chaos.

A few staggered toward us, half-running as the flames highlighted their forms in ruby and gore. Wings battered the air overhead, drawing my gaze upward.

And when I spotted my mate, a cry tore from my throat.

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15

“Fall back to camp!” I shouted in Demonic. My reanimated soldiers formed a line of their own, hollowing out a space for us to collect ourselves and retreat. Not that the Angels paid us much attention anymore. The smoke had thickened with the wind gusting in our direction, and a jagged inferno scorched the sky. Dozens broke rank, drawn toward the blaze like moths to a flame.

“Rokath, I’ve got them!” Assyria relayed.

Thank you, Weaver.

We’d spilled more than enough blood for at least one part of this fucking rescue mission to go well.

“This is going to hurt,” I told Rapp, adjusting my position so I could heft him into my arms.

“Fuck!” he swore as I shoved my arms under his torso. The sword clanked against my armor as I rose, and more blood poured from the deep gash. I couldn’t remove it, not yet, or he’d bleed out without question.

“When do you get so damn heavy,” I huffed as I called on more obsidian tendrils to help me hold him steady.

“Had to…compete with you,” he replied, unable to remain silent despite my clear instruction. I growled another warning at him. He was going to kill himself at this rate. And then I’d have to reanimate him to slake my rage at him fucking dying on me.

The Parancsok who had accompanied us raced over, eyes popping wide as he took in Rapp’s pale form.

“Halálhívó, I will accompany you in the skies. We must take Hadvezér Rapp to the healers immediately,” he stated like I didn’t fucking know that.

“Aye,” I gritted out, muscles and magic straining from the effort.

Then, he shouted at the others to continue to the trees. Black membranous wings sprung from between my shoulder blades, and I leaped into the sky. Rapp jerked once, then slumped, eyes rolling into the back of his head.

“Stay with me,” I snarled, using more of my power to hold his now limp body straight.

The Parancsok joined us a moment later, onyx swirling from his hands and spearing toward the ground, where a group of white wings winked out of existence, preventing them from following us. Not that they had much interest in pursuing us when the rear portion of their camp was ablaze.

“Was this your doing?” I asked Assyria, scanning the treeline for any sign of her. That was where we’d agreed to meet once the prisoners had been rescued.

“Oh, so now you respond to me,” she snapped back, fear and anger threading her tone. “I thought you were hurt, Rokath!”

“I am not, but Rapp is.”

“I can see that.” Her voice cracked on the last word.

Finally, I spotted movement in the trees. I shouted at the retreating males to join them, torn between saving Rapp and protecting my mate.

Fuck, why did I allow myself to care? To feel? Before Assyria, the panic holding me hostage wouldn’t have dared emerge from the cage I kept it in. I would have kept a level head. Rapp wouldn’t have gotten slashed in the first place.

Assyria’s voice cut through my internal chaos like a blade. “You can’t blame yourself, Rokath.”

How she could be so calm when I was falling apart was beyond me.

“Stay safe. Return to camp immediately.”

“Banand is overseeing our retreat, and the others have caught up. Now go. Save Rapp. I can’t lose him too.” The sob was evident even down our mental connection. She’d lost so many in her life, and I wouldn’t allow her to suffer any more grief if I could help it.