Using only his immense legs, Rokath stood, towering over everyone still kneeling. I surged to my feet beside him. “The Fates gave me the power to call upon the dead to do my bidding for a reason. To end the Angels and their relentless, fanatic pursuit of the extermination of the Demon race. Never forget what they will do in the name of that cause. It is, in fact, why you are all here. The losses we suffered recently were enormous. Your grit, determination, and magic can make the difference. We are allowing you an opportunity to prove yourselves. Do not waste it.”

A second gong pealed, yet they did not move as they stared up at the three of us. Once the sound ceased, Rokath spoke again. “Dismissed.”

With muted excitement, they straightened, whispering among themselves and gathering in small groups. Through the arched opening in the inner curtain, they streamed toward the commons. Males reformed around their longtime friends and followed.

The three of us lingered, observing their departure. Once the area had cleared out, we followed, keeping a healthy distance from them.

“What do you think, Halálhívó?” I asked, using my thumb to fiddle with the small garnet on my mother’s ring. I thought the displays of power had been impressive, especially the number of former priestesses who had significant mastery over their magic.

“Only time will tell,” he grumbled, his attention fixed straight ahead.

“So what happens after the meal then?” I asked as we entered the hall. Xannirin was notably absent from the high table. Rokath’s posture was stiff as he removed his helmet and sat down, glaring at the empty seat.

“We review their marks and start assigning them to units,” he replied. “Rapp should be able to help with that since the healer had ordered him to remain in bed for a few more days.”

Kiira and I shared a laugh at the Hadvezér’s expense. “I’m not sure all of us can fit in that tiny room,” Kiira added as two males appeared with our food.

“Well, he needs to stop fucking up his stitches if he wants to be out of it sooner,” Rokath stated, digging his fork into a small, steaming meat pie.

I shook my head and tucked into my meal. As I chewed, I surveyed the rest of the dining hall. Males sat with males, and females sat with females, each group competing for space around the long tables.

At least it wouldn’t stay that way for long.

Our entire plan hinged on integrating them and returning to the front as quickly as possible. As I stabbed into my food, I tried not to think of the consequences of us failing to do just that.

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27

Sweat slicked my training gear to my chest as I settled on the wooden stands of the arena. Kiira fared no better, using her sleeve to wipe her forehead. The newly-sorted females trailed past us, back to their barracks to wash before retiring for the evening.

Kiira, Rapp, Rokath, and I had worked for days to slot them into units appropriate for their talents. Xannirin had been notably absent, though it wasn’t like the cousins never saw each other. No, they spoke late into the night and Rokath always returned furious.

Exhaustion tugged at my limbs from the imbalance between the hours of sleep I stole at night and the level of my exertion during the day. I wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed and remain there for eternity. Yet my mate and his Hadvezér stood on the opposite end of the arena, heads bent together and gesturing to parchment attached to portable boards.

Which meant he wasn’t leaving anytime soon, and neither was I since he had our only key.

“Let’s go for a walk, shall we?” Kiira suggested, rising with a groan.

“Ugh,” I protested, but I knew if I remained seated, the soreness would set in faster and that climb up to Rokath’s rooms would be infinitely worse. The males scarcely clocked that we were leaving, absorbed in whatever it was they were discussing.

“Where do you want to go?” I asked her as we fell in step.

“First, to the kitchens to procure some wine,” she said, her tone light and airy. “Then, to the barracks.”

I let out a small laugh. “If Rokath finds out, he’s going to be furious.”

Kiira shot me a grin. “So don’t let him.”

As much as my mate loved his rules, I did not. I’d never been great at following them. And with Kiira by my side, encouraging it? There was no way I was saying no. Some wine would ease the ache in my muscles and make the spiraling trek pass a lot faster too.

Ducking into a hall, we wound through the keep. At this hour, most were settling in for the night. The few out and about strode with purpose to their overnight posts.

The kitchens bustled with activity as the cooks cleaned up from the evening meal and prepped for the following day. They all ceased immediately when they noticed the High Priestess and me.

“High Priestess, Szélhámos,” the closest one said, dropping to a knee.

“There’s no need,” Kiira told him, her tone warm and dripping honey. “Especially if you’ll fetch us a bottle of wine and glasses.”

“Certainly, High Priestess,” he replied, hurrying off. The rest returned to their work.

A few minutes later, he slipped through the chaos, carrying a woven basket. “You’ll find everything you need in here.”

Kiira accepted it with the same easy grace she carried into every room, never a hitch in her step or a dip in her chin. Her poise, her charm, her elegance…she exuded royalty and prestige. We departed quickly, leaving them to their duties. Passing out of the keep, we strode through the largest courtyard toward the eastern barracks.

The evening was brisk and the breeze cooled my skin, overheated from being in the stuffy arena for the past few hours. We continued our leisurely pace, simply enjoying a moment of peace.

Light spilled through the cracked door, and holding it wider, I allowed Kiira to slip in ahead of me. Feminine voices drifted through the space, mingling with the crashing of water against tile.

“This way,” Kiira told me, jerking her head in the direction of a small staircase that led to the upper floors. We trotted up to the highest level, where the more prominent priestesses had claimed their spaces.

Lavender, almond, and vanilla scents filled my nostrils as we strode onto the floor. Steam still hung in the air, drifting from the bathing chamber in the middle of the barracks. Moments later, Maariya, Izzenna, and a few others emerged, squeezing water from the ends of their hair.

Excited squeals greeted us, and they tossed their bath sheets onto their bunks and raced to meet Kiira.

“High Priestess!” Each greeted her with a kiss on either cheek.

“Please, the males aren’t around now,” Kiira replied, mischievousness dancing in her expression. Then, she shook the basket, causing cups to tinkle. “And we have wine.”

“Blessed by the Giver,” Maariya said, lifting the load from Kiira’s arms.

The other priestesses greeted me similarly, and Izzenna even hooked an arm through mine and steered me toward the sitting area. Maariya placed the basket on a table in the center and flipped open the top. From its dark interior, she pulled two bottles by their neck.

“Which do you want, Szélhámos?” she asked me, spinning them around so the labels were visible.

“You may call me Assyria while we’re here.” While my experience with priestesses had always been negative, witnessing how easily Kiira interacted with them had planted a seed of longing inside me. I’d never really had friends, and I desperately wanted their camaraderie.

Maariya smiled at me, giving my hope wings. “Of course. Assyria, which do you want?”

My knowledge of wine was limited to the color of the liquid. Chewing my bottom lip, I looked between the two for a moment, then gestured to the red one.