“Why didn’t you tell me?” Xannirin asked, his face ashen. “Kiira, I would have had him removed immediately.”

She cocked her head as she stared him down. The moment of truth had arrived—the moment Kiira had feared.

“Would you have? With how much influence he has over the other nobles? With how they already whispered of losing this war? He would have only stoked the flames of their fears. Plus, no one cares when a female is raped. It would have been my word against his.”

“I believe you, Kiira. I would have believed you then!” Xannirin exclaimed, raking his hands through his long hair and squeezing. “Fuck!”

I watched the Kral crumble to pieces. Yet Kiira held strong, which made me all the more furious at Xannirin’s behavior. And this whole Fates’ damned situation. “This realm must fucking change,” I snapped. “Kiira wouldn’t have suffered this. Fuck, I wouldn’t have suffered this if you hadn’t decided what our lives were allowed to be! If you hadn’t shrouded us and called it safety. If you hadn’t taught males to see us as property, then punished us for the wounds they inflicted.”

Venom spit in each word. My chest heaved from the vehemence of my soliloquy. “Females are forced into beds with lecherous males, into marriages we didn’t choose, into bearing children we didn’t ask for, and when we resist, we’re branded fallen—discarded, disavowed, destroyed. The silence we’re made to endure is oppressive. Kiira was born noble, and I was elevated through marriage, but it made no difference. We are still treated like breeding pets—collared by your version of faith, paraded for others approval, leashed to the egos of the males who claimed us.”

I released Kiira and stalked toward the fucking Kral. “You didn’t simply veil our bodies. You taught the world to call our submission sacred.”

Xannirin, to my shock, met my furious gaze with what looked a lot like regret.

Rokath spoke again, his gravelly voice scarcely louder than a whisper. “We went too far. Do you realize the pressure you put on me too? Do you understand everything I have sacrificed to ensure the Angels haven’t advanced past Ustlyak into Demon territory?”

Xannirin dragged his attention to my mate, as did the rest of us. “Clearly not.” The words were sharper than a blade. And there was the Kral I knew. “Since you let fifty thousand soldiers die for Assyria. Surely what’s so special about her is not that she is here to tell us we need to change society? How fucking useless is that. I thought she’d at least be some sort of weapon to help you win. Instead, she’s helping us lose.”

Kiira snapped first, her voice cutting through before Rokath or I could react. “Watch how you speak about our cousin’s mate. If you don’t stop with your horseshit, I will walk out of here and tell the world what we did, Xannirin. It’s becoming apparent that you have no respect for females any longer, and I will not stand for it.”

His mouth thinned as he glared at all of us. “I am not okay with this.”

“Then let me show you what other suffering has happened in your name, and maybe you can appreciate for a mere fucking second, what we’ve done for you.” Rokath unbuttoned his tunic and stripped it from his body. Tossing it on the floor, he turned and flashed scars I knew all too well.

“Here,” he pointed to a spot on his ribs inked more heavily than others, “is where I took an arrow. It nearly hit my lungs. I fought for three hours with it embedded in my side. And here,” he gave us his back and pointed to a spot just above his hip bone, “an Angel stuck a dagger as I fought off four more in front of me.”

Sorrow sank into my bones as Rokath detailed the myriad of ways he’d brushed death. Of course, I’d known he never held back from the fighting, but this?

This slashed my heart in an entirely new way.

Rokath flipped his palms up and shoved them outward, one for Xannirin and the other for Kiira, to see. A white scar from each of the stakes Zaph put through them decorated the centers. Kiira sucked in a breath and leaned forward. Tentatively, she reached for one, tracing a finger over the puckered skin.

“Zaph staked me to the ground while he slaughtered all my soldiers. Their screams echo in my dreams when I manage to sleep. For years, my life has been nothing but death and blood. My body, my mind, my soul have absorbed it all and channeled it into what I do best: killing. The rage inside of me still burns. But I want you to fucking acknowledge for once what I do for you, Xannirin,” he bit out, curling his fingers into his palms and hiding the scar. “And don’t you dare tell me I am incapable of protecting my mate. Or that I shouldn’t spare a second for her. And if you ever deign to suggest to others a location where she is vulnerable, I will have your balls.”

Xannirin exhaled, long and slow. The tension bled from his shoulders as he looked between the three of us.

Is he finally seeing reason?

He opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again. A hand smoothed back his tangled hair, and he worked the leather from its lengths. No one spoke as he fixed it again. “I never should have said that, Rokath. I am sorry. So fucking sorry. To you and to Kiira.” He paused, his throat working while she held her chin high. “I cannot undo what has happened to you, Kiira. But I can ensure it doesn’t happen again in the future. And to you, Assyria. I have treated you terribly when I should have welcomed you into House Vrak.”

My brows shot up my forehead at his almost-apology.

“You were right, Rokath.” His voice was hoarse and no louder than a whisper. “This all spiraled out of control because of my ambition. But you can’t say it’s the only thing that started it. Our fathers couldn’t have protected us like you have.”

Silence reigned among us for many minutes. An inferno of emotion twisted inside Rokath at Xannirin’s acknowledgement. I studied my mate, trying to discern exactly what those words had brought up in him.

“I’ll make an appearance tomorrow during training hours and declare my support for the integration.”

At Xannirin’s promise, my jaw nearly hit the floor. Kiira and I exchanged a look of surprise.

“Afterward, I will depart for Uzhhorod, and I will find other powerful females for your army, Rokath.”

I could only blink at the Kral.

Rokath was less convinced, his jaw still clenched. “Will you?”

Xannirin nodded, opening his arms and letting them hang by his sides. “Aye. I have heard you all.”

A beat passed, and then Kiira spoke. “I will stay behind once you go. I am tired of pretending to be the most pious female in the whole Demon Realm. I need a break.”

Xannirin nodded. “Remain here. I will cover for you when I return to Uzhhorod. But I do need to arrive with new stories in hand. You are the expert at this, Kiira. I trust your judgement.”

I scrutinized the Kral. His words, his posture, all of it seemed sincere. And yet I couldn’t shake this sick feeling in my stomach when I looked at him.

“We have been, and always will be a team,” Kiira added, glaring at him as if she too struggled to believe his words. “You just need to see all of it again, Xannirin. You drifted too far out on your own without appreciating everything we did in your name.”

“You’re right,” he told her. “I won’t let that happen again. We can do anything so long as we do it together.”

“Aye,” Rokath affirmed, though he regarded the Kral with wariness.

“Why don’t we sit now that cooler heads are prevailing and speak of what we need to do next?” Kiira suggested. Tension still hung like a thick fog in the air, but the four of us managed to settle around an expansive dining table off to one side without killing each other.

Honestly, Kiira’s admission had thrown a bucket of ice water over these two hot-headed males. Their sober expressions as they cleaned their faces spoke to how deeply they cared for their cousin.