“I thought Xannirin would blame me,” she choked out. “If he believed me at all.”

“Why would he not?” I asked.

“The male who raped me helped us build all of this,” she replied. “We couldn’t have done it without him, Assyria. We knew it was a risk…”

She straightened, but I didn’t release her. She needed to know that there was nothing wrong with her. That I didn’t view her differently for what had happened to her. To me. “And you’re worried that Xannirin will deny it happened because of how important he is to the realm.”

“Yes,” Kiira breathed, her voice haunted.

I let out a long sigh. “From what I know of Rokath, he’d believe you. In fact, he’d probably decide to ride to Uzzhorod and slit that fuckers throat the moment you told him.”

A watery laugh escaped Kiira. “That sounds exactly like something he’d do.”

“Males,” I said, expression softening with love and understanding. I hoped Kiira saw it all.

“Males,” she echoed, a soft smile rising to her lips.

“You have nothing to be ashamed of, Kiira.”

“Then why do I feel like I do?” she asked softly.

“Because that’s what they’d done to us for centuries. Made us feel like we’re beneath them. Like we deserve whatever we get. Like we are powerless.” The sentences burst out of me with all the anger I’d suppressed trying to be someone I was not. “And that is why I’m here, you’re here, now. We’re ready for this change.”

“We have to stick together. All of us,” Kiira croaked, and I knew she meant the priestesses she’d brought with her, despite what the fucking Kral wanted.

“We will. United, we can stand against what the males think we should be. We will fucking show them,” I promised her. “Plus, we have Rokath and Rapp on our sides too. My mate can be pretty frightening when he wants to be.”

Kiira snorted. “In only a few days, I’ve seen a side to him that he hasn’t shown since he was so, so young. That’s all because of you.”

“I know. I can be relentless when I want to be. Which is pretty much all the time,” I laughed, flicking my braid over my shoulder.

“That is a quality we need right now,” Kiira stated. “Thank you, Assyria. For helping me see.”

“Thank you, Kiira, for sharing with me. For believing me when I told you,” I said, pulling her in for a fierce hug. “I’m so sorry you had to go through it too.”

“Just tell me I’ll get through it,” she said, resting her head on my shoulder.

“You will. Anytime you need to talk, I’m here. And I won’t tell anyone either,” I swore. “But I do think you should speak to your cousins about this. It might be what Xannirin needs to hear to crack. Or for Rokath to kill him. One of the two.”

Kiira wiped her nose, holding back a glimmer of amusement. “Fates, Rokath would be a terrible Kral.”

“There’s nothing he’d hate more,” I agreed. “But to protect us, he’d do it.”

We remained like that for a moment, me studying Kiira, and Kiira soaking in whatever assurance she needed from me. “I should go before Rokath worries.”

“Yes, please go if you need to. I’ll be fine,” she replied, smoothing her hair.

“Are you certain? I can stay if you need me to.”

She shook her head. “I might check on Rapp one last time before bed. Make sure he didn’t overdo it today.”

At that, we both giggled. “Oh, he definitely did.”

As she slipped into the bathing chamber to splash some water on her face, I sat in silent reflection. My heart broke for Kiira and all she’d endured too. Her story renewed my convictions, fueled my fury at our mistreatment. For her, for the others, for every female in the Demon Realm, I’d see these changes through to the end.

After all, I’d been blessed by the Giver with this unique power, with a bond that transcended all others, and an unbreakable will. I was the fucking Szélhámos, and the world would come to know exactly who I was by the end of this war.

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28

Kiira and I descended the stairs hand in hand. The freely given affection was healing me as much as it was healing her. “You know, I always wished for a sister. Prayed for one when I was young, someone for me to be with like Rokath and Xannirin had each other. I think the Fates finally answered me with you.”

“You’re going to make me cry,” I choked out, giving her a squeeze. Memories of my own sister flashed through my mind. She’d been the last of my family to die in the plague. But maybe, just maybe, I could find the same feelings with Kiira and among the females in Fured.

“I mean it. We have a sisterhood among the priestesses, but I can’t share with them like I can with you. You are as much in this as I am now,” she told me.

Flickering light appeared ahead as we descended the final spin of the tower. All was quiet with the late hour, not even a whisper of the guards who normally stood at the base to protect their Kral. We reached the landing, striding into the chilly night air. A shiver wracked my frame, and I released Kiira to rub warmth into my arms.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to walk you?” I asked her, backing toward Rokath’s tower. Rapp and the healing wing were in the opposite direction. With a glance behind me, I realized no sentries were posted at the entry or along the hall.

They must be on a break.

“I’ll be fine,” she swore, wrapping her jacket tighter over her torso. “Get some sleep. You look exhausted.”

I snorted. “So do you.”

Kiira’s eyes widened, her breath catching—not the reaction I expected. “Assyria, watch–”

Something hard slammed into my back, sending me careening forward. Kiira shrieked, leaping out of the way. I twisted my body at the last moment, landing hard on my bad shoulder. Pain flared, and a loud pop reached my ears.

“Fuck,” I cursed, clutching my arm. Kiira continued to scream, and I tore my eyes open to find a male towering over me, molten pitch coiling around him. Thick whips snapped Kiira into a nearby column. Her sounds ceased, leaving only my thundering heart in my ears.

I shoved my feet into the ground and pushed back, creating distance between me and the hooded male. With the darkness covering his face, I had no way of knowing what his eye color was. What his secondary power might be.

“Rokath!” I screamed down our bond, snatching at the inky well in my chest.

A silver blade flashed in the firelight.

Without thinking, I flung my magic in all directions, covering Kiira should he attempt to slit her throat while she was unconscious.

“Where are you?” Rokath growled, my fear a wildfire down the bond.

“Base of the tower,” I managed to get out as the male leaped for me. He crashed into me, sending the air screaming from my lungs. A sharp sting sliced across my cheek. Stars danced in my vision. But I’d managed to avoid a dagger to the heart.

My shadows stuttered from the contact with silver. I gritted my teeth and dug deeper into my well.

This fucker would not kill me.

Obsidian power surged, shoving him off me. Wheezing, I flung out a hand, holding him at bay. Agony lashed my shoulder as I raised my other arm to twist the dark tendrils toward his hood to reveal his identity.

Stone trembled above us. A wicked grin curved the corner of my mouth. “You’ve made a terrible mistake.”

The would-be assassin snarled and slashed through my magic. Each rope screamed in protest as it shattered into nothingness. Adrenaline flooding my veins, I rose, preparing to fight with my fists.

He lunged again, and I ducked under the blow, dancing away from him. He followed, silver whooshing by me as I continued to dodge.

Why did there have to be so many fucking stairs to that tower?

I had no doubt Rokath was careening down them at a breakneck pace.