From the third wave, magic blasted in their direction. Nightmares, Chaos, and Corruption abounded, extracting even more screams. The sharp sound pierced my ears, and yet I couldn’t afford to flinch.

“Keep going!” I shouted, and then, the Angels noticed my advance with Rapp by my side.

“Halálhívó!” they screeched, almost like a warning.

Their ranks reformed like a school of fish when they sense danger. Flashes of white illuminated the night.

“Suppressors, go!” Rapp yelled, and a group of females leaped into action, spinning their shadows in a frenzy, preventing those wielding light from continuing to do so.

Ahead of me, bodies fell. I gritted my teeth and kept pushing forward, another group rising to fill the void they left behind as we battled. Dragging in a deep breath, I dove into the well of my magic, deeper and stronger than ever before thanks to Rokath’s expert teaching.

A twister engulfed me, slicing across my vision. I flung my hands forward, aiming for the center of a particularly close cluster. The Angels split apart from the force of my shove, their bodies hitting the ground and each other with hard thuds. The scattering allowed the females wielding polearms to dig the tips into their attacker’s stomachs.

With a unified cry, they yanked their weapons back, dropping a half dozen Angels. I released a whoop, thrilled by our success, then repeated the action. Magic and blades cracked through the night. Both sexes fought with fervor.

Forgotten were the centuries of a society where females were incapable of holding their own in the army. The battlefield made no distinction.

Outnumbered, united, we forced the Angels back toward their realm.

More flashes of white sliced through the dark, and another group appeared like a shimmering wave to our left.

“Illusion!” I screamed, naming it for what it was so no one would be distracted by it. I ground my foot into the dirt, digging into reality. Others did the same, and the trick dissipated on the wind.

Rapp and I, shoulder to shoulder, closed in on the front line. Thick black ropes appeared in his hands, and he flung them indiscriminately into the crowd. As Angel after Angel collapsed, bound by Rapp’s magic, a Demon raced forward to drive their blades through their hearts.

Finally, the Deathveiled surged over the hill, forcing our way onto a flat plain. After my next whipping shadow attack, I stole a look around the battle, glimpsing Olet and the archers in the air, dodging blasts of white and firing arrows down in return. I kept scanning until I found my mate.

Despite the mass of bodies in his wake, he hadn’t yet unleashed his power. With me impersonating him, he was unable to wield the corpses littered across the terrain. Not unless he wanted to reveal the Imposter. The way he had to Call was too obvious, with the shockwave that would yank the dead upright to fight.

“Press harder!” I commanded. The sooner we closed the distance between us, the sooner he could claim his power to assist our assault.

A scream pierced my ear again, far too close for comfort. I whipped toward the source of the sound. One of the garnet-eyed females dropped to the ground, a hand slapped over an arrow protruding from her neck.

Fuck.

Another bolt whizzed by, catching someone else behind me. “Duck!” Rapp yelled, and I hit the ground a second before a third flew straight overhead.

A thick rope sailed away from us and wrapped around a group of Angels ahead. “Protect the Halálhívó,” he growled, and the group surged like an angry wave.

Roars shattered the night, clamoring with the clashing of blades as we continued to press our enemies back. I shoved to my feet, yanking a sword away from a fallen body. The Angels packed tight like bees in a hive, preparing for their next assault. I raised my arm, tip of the blade pointed toward the group. Aim wasn’t nearly as important as distance.

With all my might, I threw.

The bronze whistled through the air, driving straight through the stomach of a male Angel in the midst of the group. His eyes widened, and he clutched the sharp edges like he would yank it free. But it was no use. His knees smacked the earth, and then he flattened completely.

My first intentional kill.

Yet grief didn’t surge from the pit of my belly as I watched him die; instead, fire ravaged my veins, imbuing me with further ferocity. A wild grin pulled up my lips as I grabbed another sword and repeated my offensive. Another Angel crashed to the ground.

“Fuck yes!” Rapp encouraged, handing me another. Together we threw again, him his binds, and me, the weapons. Rokath’s muscles certainly held multiple advantages.

But then, from the rear of the Angel army, a wave of light, so bright it nearly burned out my vision, rose.

“Shield your eyes!” Rapp screamed.

I threw my elbow over my face and buried my head. In front of us, anguish cries resounded.

The soldiers at the very front.

When I opened them again, what remained of the first and second waves of our army had vanished. Now, a mountain of bodies separated the Angels and Demons as we faced off.

It was almost poetic.

The Angels struck first, pressing their advantage. Vaulting over the dead, some flung more illusions in our direction, warping our reality. Others threw sharp weapons into our midst.

Rapp and I yanked on our shadows to shield the Deathveiled and the other soldiers around us. Vokkia rained destruction down indiscriminately. Izzenna wove nightmares and shoved them in the faces of distant groups to hold them off.

Sweat slicked my spine as they continued forward, forcing us back foot by foot. There were so, so many of them. More that I hadn’t seen at first glance.

Would we make it out of this conflict alive?

Uzadaan and Maariya raced ahead of us as a group of white-armored Angels closed in. When they’d worked together in the past, it had been terrifying.

Now?

I welcomed the sight.

The tip of a bronze blade dug into her skin, and she splattered her blood on the field. Sucking over the wound, she drew ruby into her mouth and spit it in a female’s direction. Blood dusted her white armor. The Angel snarled, lips curling in revulsion, as she spun on my friend.

Only to halt in place, along with a dozen others, as Maariya wielded her magic. Uzadaan spread his fingers wide, and still more froze, only able to blink at the oncoming Demons. Two females darted between the statuesque figures and sliced the throats of them all.

“Get back,” Rapp barked at me, and I wasted no time retreating behind another line. Should another tidal wave of light come, I didn’t want to be in a vulnerable position.

The first hint of dawn appeared over the ocean.

Only then did I realize how long we’d been fighting. Exhaustion tugged at my limbs, and I stole a moment to check on my magic well.

While the shadows were still ebony, their color was waning gray. And quickly.

“Rapp!” I called out. He carefully backstepped, and the line closed in front of him. “We need to rejoin the Halálhívó, and soon.”

He nodded, expert eyes sweeping over the battlefield. “Tell Rokath to signal Olet to fly this way and help us carve a path to him.”

“We need help over here. Send the archers,” I relayed down our mental connection.

“Done,” came his terse, tense reply.

Rustling wings reached our ears. Olet and the archers approached from the ocean, their black wings spread wide and sharp arrow tips poised to fly. A group of Angels met them in the skies, giving us room to breathe on the ground.

“Work your way right!” I shouted at our squads.

As one, we moved, corralling our enemies in the direction of the steep cliffs. Sweat slicked my skin, and more than once, I tripped on a fallen body. Rapp’s face was ashen, each new bind more gossamer than the last. His movements too dragged like every muscle twitch required enormous effort.