“What if someone flies up here and sees us?” I gasped out around his hand.

“Then they die,” he said simply, like there was no question about it.

Rokath pressed images of what exactly he’d do to the unfortunate person who witnessed him claiming me from behind into my mind. That only heightened the ecstasy of him thickening inside me. A small, wanton sound slipped out of me before I could stop it.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you, little imposter?” he growled, grip tightening.

“Yes.” I battled for air, arms trembling as I attempted to remain upright when all I wanted to do was collapse. Sweat beaded my forehead and dripped down my back as Rokath pounded into me. “More. Please.” Each word strangled out of me as the world spun. Specks flew in my vision, and I was wound so tight, it wouldn’t take much for me to snap.

He leaned over me, so fucking deep I thought I might split in two. Another cry tore from my throat. “Come for me while you think about what would happen to the unfortunate soldier who witnessed me claiming you.”

With expert fingers, he rubbed my clit, and then, I was gone. With more force than the waves below, pleasure crested and then crashed into me. Brows pinched, mouth open in a silent scream, I rode the tide of pleasure in and out.

“You’d like me killing in your name as much as you liked me punishing in your name. You know, I never did tell you that when those fucking fanatics took you from me, I beat a dozen soldiers bloody for allowing them so close to you. It wasn’t enough.”

Our bond swirled with violent promise and carnal pleasure. Wave after wave of dark desire swept from Rokath to me, prolonging my orgasm. Air flooded my lungs again after he surrendered my neck.

“I would,” I panted, blood thrumming in my veins with the anticipation of the slaughter to come. With the thought of the vengeance Rokath and I would seek against the Angels.

A massive gong reverberated, overtaking the sound of our slapping skin and my moans. “Fuck,” Rokath cursed, quickening his pace. “The Fates made you perfectly for me, Assyria. Our darkness. Our pain. Our pleasure.” To emphasize his point, he sank himself to the hilt and circled his hips.

“Yes,” I hissed, pressing into him. He grabbed my braid and wrapped it around his fist, forcing my spine to arch again.

“You are mine, Assyria. Always have been. Always will be. In every life, in every world, in every form.” All barriers between us swept away as he opened himself to me through the bond. His reflection darkened, much like his mood. That possessive protectiveness in him rose as his orgasm closed in on him. That only served to heighten my pleasure, and my toes curled as my core tightened again.

“Give me one more, since we’re already going to be late,” Rokath commanded, and I did, already so close to the edge. His name ripped from my throat as he thrust brutally into me, over and over and over. My mind went blank of everything but my mate.

He groaned, low, masculine, primal, and slipped out of me. Pumping himself, he coated my back in ropes of his hot cum.

Our breaths came in serrated drags as he gathered me in his arms and flipped me. His lips collided with mine, stealing what little air I had regained. With him, it was never enough—was never going to be enough.

He ended our kiss, bracing his forehead against mine. “Why do you cause me to break all my own rules?”

“You could adjust them,” I pointed out, a small smile curving my lips. I couldn’t deny that I loved the power I held over him though. From our very first interaction, he’d disregarded his carefully crafted regulations for me.

His confession and his story about Thast cast all of those choices into a new light. To Rokath, the strict enforcement had been a way to ensure that never happened again. For him to continue to bend and break them for me was a testament to his adoration. To the way we loved each other.

I scratched his beard, then hooked my fingers together at the base of his neck. Staring into his dark eyes, I professed with words what the bond already told him. “I love you.”

He grabbed my wrists and freed his head, kissing each of the H’s he’d carved into them. “And I you, Assyria.”

Our lips met again with tender care, and he ran his knuckles up and down my ribcage. With a sigh, I pulled back.

“Hurry with your hair. You can bathe again later while I speak with Olet,” he said, his voice low and gravelly. Then, he released me to turn on the taps again.

Grabbing a bar of soap from atop a now-soaked pile of bath sheets, I quickly worked it into a lather and cleansed myself. Then, I unbraided my hair and dunked beneath the flow of water. Scratching my scalp, I attempted to remove as much sand as possible. Unfortunately, my locks would take more than a single wash to return to normal. With a huff, I gave up, deciding I was refreshed enough to eat among the males—especially given that even in this state, I was still cleaner than they were in the war camp.

Rokath found us clothes while I dried and fixed my hair so it wouldn’t drip all over the floor. Grem and Zeec snoozed on their beds as we reentered the sleeping chamber, neither bothering to crack an eye at our departure.

“So how late are we?” I asked with a little giggle as Rokath strapped daggers to his person. He wasn’t dressed in full armor, at least, though his attire was no less intimidating than it would have been otherwise.

Rokath flicked his attention to the clock on the wall. “By the time we get there, only half an hour.”

“Oops,” I shrugged, pulling on my boots. Rokath grumbled something about me under his breath, and I threw a pillow at him.

He caught it handily before striding over to me and yanking me upright. Then, he wrapped a hand around my throat, stroking my fluttering pulse. “Let’s go before I decide to skip dinner altogether and punish that smart mouth.”

I offered him a saccharine smile. Then, he looped his arm over my shoulders and steered us out of his rooms and into the long spiral staircase that would bring us back to reality.

The roar of voices shook the stone around us as we approached the dining hall, and my stomach rumbled loudly as the scent of roasted vegetables and freshly baked bread reached my nostrils. To put it mildly, camp food was little more than a torture device designed to nourish us.

Real food? At the moment, that was better than any sex Rokath could give me.

“Clearly I did not make you come hard enough, little imposter.”

I stopped in my tracks, a scoff slipping out of me. He’d been drifting in my thoughts and I hadn’t even realized.

Smug satisfaction met me when I cursed him down our bond.

Rokath strode forward with powerful, confident strides, leaving me behind. With a huff, I jogged to catch up, throwing my shoulders back and embodying his attitude. These males, for the most part, were all new to me. I’d held my own with Parancsok Olet earlier, and now it was time to prove myself to the rest of them.

Hopefully the ones who traveled with us would spread the word of my newfound infamy and whispers of my Giver-blessed power would garner their favorable regard.

At the end of the hall, two doors were thrown wide, and inside, the mass of males moved, ate, and spoke to one another. But when Rokath entered the vast commons, conversation ceased, movement slowed, and mouths stopped chewing. Though he didn’t don his ebony horned helmet before we departed, his aura alone was enough to intimidate and command respect.

Those standing dropped to one knee. Those seated bowed their heads. But one word whispered from every mouth as we passed by: Halálhívó. He didn’t deign to look at a single one as we approached a high table with a view over the entire room. Parancsok Olet was already there, along with Rapp, who looked more pissed off than when we’d left him with the healer earlier.