Текст книги "Eyes of devious burgundy"

Автор книги: Lacey Lehotzky

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16

“Again,” I barked at Rapp. He slashed a glare in my direction from his position on the torn dirt ground. A slick sheen of sweat coated both of us from the intense sparring we’d been doing for the past hour. Tension ate at my shoulders and neck sitting around Gyor Palace all day, speaking of nothing or repeating the same messages over and over again.

No, the Angels won’t be here in a week’s time. Yes, I have a fucking plan, that’s why males are showing up by the thousands and camped outside the walls of Uzhhorod. No, I will not allow your sniveling offspring an officer’s position he hasn’t earned.

The negative thoughts were starting to creep in, too much idle time away from the action allowing doubt to worm its way into my brain.

I needed to move.

So I came to the war camp and sought out Rapp and a few others to fight. Nothing calmed my racing thoughts like the heat of a match, and while in a training ring my life wasn’t on the line, I could pretend it was, at least for a moment. My focus remained steadfast on the task at hand, unbroken by courtesans, servants, or schemes.

Or by the pressure of protecting all the Demons from death. I may have been able to call upon the dead to do my bidding, but I couldn’t instill life in them again.

“Krax, you go with him,” Rapp pointed at one of the young Százados leaning against the posts marking the ring.

“Yes, sir,” he said to Rapp before jerking his tunic overhead and tossing it to the side.

He approached me with respect, even offering me a kneeling salute before rising and raising his fists. His thick jaw was set and his carmine eyes danced around, studying my movements.

I sidestepped, hands hanging low. But I wasn’t unguarded; it was a ploy to see how the young male would react to such an opponent. Wisely, he didn’t take the bait. Instead, he sidestepped too, nearly the same distance as me. The tense set of his shoulders gave away his nervousness, and when I feinted a punch, he jerked, sharp and quick.

Seeming to understand my test, he blew out a breath and circled, bouncing on his toes.

Then, I struck.

My fist flew straight past his ear, clipping the pointed edge, but the Százados was smart enough to throw a punch to my body while I was in close range. It didn’t hurt nearly as much as when Rapp struck me, but I’d taken more blows than I could count, and none of them truly phased me anymore. Retreating, I sliced a kick at his knee, but Krax dragged his leg out of the way.

Heart racing, sweat pounding out of my pores, I felt so fucking alive.

Without warning, I launched into a flurry of strikes, driving Krax backward as he was forced to defend his head. Once his arms were sufficiently high, I struck his stomach, forcing the air from his lungs.

With a grunt, he grabbed the back of my neck with both hands, trying to break my posture. Fighting against the downward pull, I snaked an arm between us and knocked one hand loose before wrapping it around the back of his head. Tied together, we struggled for control, hands slipping from neck to shoulder and back.

He landed one lucky knee to my side before I used his position against him. Our sweat slicked skin made it easy for me to snake my arm completely over his head, clasping my palms together and throwing him over my hip to the ground.

He thudded against the earth, air whooshing from his lungs, but I didn’t relent. Dirt flew in all directions as I dropped one knee to his stomach to pin him. As I raised my fist to strike, he bucked, sending me flying off of him. I managed to catch myself with my free hand and used my momentum to spin back around, facing off with him.

“You’ll have to do better than that,” I taunted, chest heaving from the effort.

From our crouched positions on the ground, he lunged, trying to tackle me onto my back. But I anticipated the movement, moving to the side just in time to catch his arm and yank him to my chest.

Grabbing my own wrist, I held him there, tightening ever so slightly as he squirmed, trying to break my grip.

“Get your arm in, or you’re going to be choked!” Rapp called out from the side.

Immediately, Krax stopped tugging down and starting shoving up. I let him try for a moment before I switched my arm position and stole his air.

He smacked me, telling me he surrendered.

“Aw, Krax, you totally had him,” Rapp teased, laughing as the Százados rose, dusting himself off.

As I got to my feet, he dipped into a deep bow and then saluted me. “It was an honor, Halálhívó.”

“Try to breathe a little more so your muscles have air to move. It doesn’t help to be so tense,” I told him. I wasn’t that much of an asshole that I wouldn’t give pointers where needed. After all, I was the leader of the entire army, and if I could prevent one of my soldiers from dying with a few recommendations, then it was my duty to do so.

Not that my temper hadn’t brought a few to the brink of death before.

“Thank you, Halálhívó,” Krax said, bringing his fist to his forehead and saluting before returning to the post on which he had been leaning.

I returned my attention to Rapp. “Just because you told Krax to go doesn’t mean you are relieved from your duties. You’ve had your break. Let’s go.”

With a groan, he rose. “You’re never going to learn to relax, are you?”

“Centuries of friendship and you still haven’t figured that out?” I replied, my tone lighter and teasing.

Rapp squared up with me, hunching his shoulders and tucking one fist close to his face. “I keep holding out hope.”

Rolling my eyes, I raised my hands, keeping them nice and loose as we tested each other. We’d sparred more times than I could count, and he was one of the few males with whom I did not have to hold back.

And right now, I wanted an all-out brawl.

Rapp seemed to sense this too, and he glanced at the crowd of onlookers watching their Hadvezér prepare to fight. “Should we show them how it’s done, Halálhívó?”

“Aye,” I grunted, and then Rapp charged.

Strike for strike, we blocked, parried, swung, neither of us landing a clean shot despite our rapid pace. Blood burned through my veins, filling me with exactly what I wanted to feel—nothing.

Nothing mattered but the next move, the next counter, the next roll. While with Krax, I’d toyed with my food and had too much time to think about how I was accomplishing it, Rapp didn’t relent for a heartbeat. He hit me with a barrage of strikes, and I curled up, waiting for the end, then fired a hard hook as he retreated, clipping the side of his head and sending him stumbling.

Throwing up a kick, I caught him in the side, but then his arm snaked around my lower leg and tugged me closer. We’d sparred for centuries, and his next move was entirely predictable. The low kick to my bracing leg came as expected, so I hopped, grabbing his shoulders and throwing my weight back.

A manic laugh escaped him as we tumbled to the ground, but he didn’t go over my head like I had been aiming. Instead, he caught himself on the tips of his toes and pressed all his weight into me. “Don’t be so predictable, Halálhívó.”

“You trapped me. Seems you still have room to change, Hadvezér.” Sarcasm threaded through my tone.

With a grunt, I shoved him up and over me, switching our position so my shoulder dug into his chest.

“Your fucking muscles,” Rapp wheezed.

“You should work on yours,” I commented, continuing to press.

“Can’t fly,” he managed to get out, and I relented my pressure, rising to my feet.

Cocking my head at him, I said, “Let’s take the fight to the air then. We’ll see who wins.”

He rose, a smirk spreading across his pierced face. “I’ll take you up on that, Halálhívó.”

Calling on the well of shadows in my chest, I pulled my black, membranous wings out of my back, letting their bulk flex and settle while Rapp did the same.

Then, I bunched my legs and leaped into the air, dusting the onlookers with the powerful strokes of my wings. Cheers rang out regardless as heads tipped up to watch us battle under the cloudless blue sky.

Rapp’s smaller size provided him an edge in agility as we grabbed, struck, and swerved in a complicated dance. There was a reason Rapp headed our winged division—he was a damn good fighter in the air.

There was also a reason I led the entire Demon army.

Rapp backflipped to dodge me, and I paused, waiting until he was nearly upside down before snatching his ankles and tugging. His momentum carried me forward and around, while my bulk forced us into another subsequent spin.

“Ugh, fuck you, Rokath,” Rapp said as I used my wings to ensure the tumble continued. The ground raced up beneath us.

“Are you yielding?” I nearly grinned.

“Reaper, yes, now let go,” he cursed, slashing his head to the side, eyes widening as he realized how far we’d fallen.

I obliged, wings snapping out, halting our descent mere feet from the ground.

Rapp did the same, and the two of us hovered while we clasped arms and slapped each other on the back.

“That was incredible!” a male exclaimed, and then chatter and cheers broke out among the crowd.

We descended the final few feet to the ground, and a smattering of salutes greeted us. Banishing my wings, I said to Rapp, “I think I am sufficiently fatigued for the day.”

“I am for a week at least,” he shot back, striding away to retrieve our discarded tunics.

I didn’t bother to put mine on, since it would have been nearly impossible with the sweat coating my inked skin. “I’ve got a few things to check on here before I return to Gyor,” I commented, as we strode away from the training area, letting the seasoned recruits teach the new conscripts how to fight. Those that had already arrived would certainly have an advantage over the ones still traveling to Uzhhorod.

“Well you’ll have to see me before you leave, given that Grem and Zeec are in my tent,” Rapp pointed out, using his tunic to dry his face and hair.

I grunted. “Just admit that you’ll miss me once I’m gone and the dogs are a lure to ensure I don’t disappear into the night, never to be seen again.”

“Never,” he shot back.

We’d arrived at the main crossroads in the camp, where the cages for those caught breaking the army regulations waited, along with a central platform and a whipping post. The rules I’d instilled among the ranks were there for a reason, and I had an extremely low tolerance for disrespecting them. All the ranking officers beneath me knew it too, and should their negligence result in one of their reports disobeying my command, they were equally as liable for my wrath.

Clapping Rapp on the shoulder, I shoved him in the direction of his tent, while I strode toward the sprawling black one that served as the command center no matter where we were.

Throwing back the flaps, I found the first room empty, no one surrounding the map table with pieces like the ones in Xannirin’s study marking known movements. Pausing, I examined them, looking for any changes since our last meeting. I nearly broke a tooth when several large white stones were further south.

We have to get back out there.

With only a week or so until everyone converged in Uzhhorod, there wasn’t much I could do other than ensure training was underway for the conscripts and every male’s magic had been thoroughly assessed.

I fucking hated it. I was a male of action, and all this inaction was fraying my nerves. Though I understood the power of patience, especially when it came to a game of war.

Moving through to what I fondly referred to as the ‘bone room’ I found it empty. The semi-throne that waited there was made entirely of bones collected from fallen Angels. I’d had it constructed after the first major battle the Demons won, and every time the Angel’s leadership had wanted to convene, I ensured it was in this very space, where they saw me perched upon their deceased comrades, souls permanently trapped in this world along with their skeletal remains.

It was the greatest insult I could give the Goddess idolaters, resolute in their cause to exterminate the Demons.

Very few understood the illogicality of these males and females. They could not be reasoned with, and Xannirin and I could. While we might have mimicked their society to bring ours to heel, Xannirin, Kiira, and I faked the depths of our belief for the most part. The Angels, especially Koron Stadiel, did not.

Therefore, the sooner I could spike his head, the better off everyone in Keleti would be. Deeper I wound until I found the group I had been searching for. “Someone tell me how the fuck the Angels advanced so quickly.”

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17

Jaku gathered his Vezető in his massive private tent after our ride for the day concluded. The seven of us sat around the table where I had eaten breakfast my first morning with the squad, the chaos of a packing camp unfolding around me. This time, however, Jaku offered us wine and cheese he had picked up along with additional supplies in Osijek.

Without waiting, Dromak snatched a bottle off the table and uncorked it, pouring a hearty measure into each of our goblets. Then, he crouched in front of his own, squinting to ensure the wine was level with the rim. Gnim and Grex only blinked at him as we watched him. They were twins, I learned, after staring a little too long and trying to figure out who was who. If it weren’t for their different shaded eyes, it would have been impossible.

Izgath lifted the bottle from his hands, giving it a slight shake. “There’s nothing left, Dromak.”

Dromak shrugged in response. “You should have poured it if you wanted more, Izgath.”

The two of them squabbled for a moment, and I seized the opportunity for a quick taste. One of the few perks of being married to a Kormánzó was the fine wine he collected, though the times when I was allowed to drink it were rarer and rarer as time went on, as Priestess Anara thought it might have been preventing me from bearing a child.

The crisp, honeyed taste washed over my tongue, engaging every bud in its complex dance. Much like roses, wines were labyrinthine, temperamental, and multifaceted.

“Enough,” Jaku said, cutting Dromak off mid-sentence. He made a noise of protest, but Jaku lifted a critical eyebrow. Clearing his throat, he finally got to the point of this gathering. “With less than a week to the Uzhhorod, we need to start organizing so our transition into the battalion is smooth. We don’t have time to waste.”

At that, four pairs of eyes simultaneously rolled.

“Everyone’s magic needs to be tested and demonstrated with accurate power measurements. Uzadaan,” Jaku turned his attention to the ruby-eyed male, “you’ll be the record keeper. Dromak and Izgath,” he turned to the other two, “you’ll be our testers. Gnim, Grex, and Vagach, you’ll organize the assessment and make sure it goes as smoothly as possible. It will take a few days to get through everyone, and I don’t want anyone missed.”

The wine sitting in my stomach soured immediately. If I had to produce Vagach’s magic…

“Aye,” the five of them said in unison, and I hastily added my agreement, grateful that I held a metal goblet so no one could see how badly my hands were shaking. I’d convinced Izgath to keep my secret, but I couldn’t trust anyone else with it.

Dromak chugged his wine, wiping the remnants from around his mouth when he finished. Pushing back from the table, he asked the rest of us, “Are you coming?”

“Maybe when I’m done with my wine,” Izgath commented, swirling his glass.

“I had more to drink than you and still finished first,” Dromak pointed out.

“You always finish first.” Uzadaan casually sipped from his drink like he hadn’t dropped the funniest comment of the whole exchange. We roared with amusement as Dromak spluttered out a paltry excuse.

Izgath drained his goblet, and I followed, hoping that the excess alcohol wouldn’t interfere too much with my magic use. Later and later every evening I was able to hold it, but I also hadn’t had much to drink and never while I was using my form.

Too late to turn back now.

“You just want to blow shit up, Dromak,” Izgath said, rising from the table. “That’s why Jaku made you a tester after all.”

Dromak, still stinging from the insults, only grunted in response.

But then Uzadaan finished what was left of his wine and grabbed a piece of creamy cheese, setting it on the smooth wood. “Me Dromak,” he said in a guttural voice, then smashed his fist into it, sending the soft product flying in every direction.

Gnim and Grex howled, doubling over and clutching their stomachs, and Jaku looked both pissed and amused as he joined everyone but Dromak in laughter. Throwing his hands in the air, Dromak left the tent, muttering curses about the six of us the entire way. That only served to make us laugh harder.

“You are so mean to him,” I commented when I caught my breath.

Uzadaan wiped the tears from his eyes. “He’s good humored about it at least. We all need to laugh, especially out there.” His eyes cut north, to where a war raged thousands of miles away.

The reminder of the reason we were all together sobered us. Jaku opened his mouth to speak, but before he could get a word out, Izgath chirped, “No time to waste.”

I chuckled again, and the Százados cut me a glare. “Dromak isn’t the only one who sets himself up for it,” Uzadaan commented, offering our Százados a clever grin.

“Get out before I make you run the remaining distance to Uzhhorod,” Jaku said, though his tone was playful.

“Yes, sir,” we said in unison, then dipped out of the tent to find Dromak.

I hadn’t spoken much to Izgath since I found his note beneath my door the previous night, and I sauntered up to him since he was supposed to organize the testing. His garnet eyes flicked to me, and he slowed his pace, allowing Uzadaan, Gnim, and Grex to lead us through the camp in search of Dromak.

Swallowing down my nerves I whispered, “I don’t think I can mimic Vagach’s magic.”

He nodded but kept his eyes forward. “I’ll handle it.”

Relief crashed through me and I nearly sagged against a passing tent in relief. “Thank you, Izgath.”

He said nothing but kept following Uzadaan as we wound our way toward the supply wagons ringing the camp. Beyond, Dromak was shouting at the recruits to run faster. “I got your note,” I murmured.

His face brightened into a light, teasing expression. “And?”

“And I appreciate your understanding. This is…” I paused, looking up as if the words I needed were written in the clear blue sky, “strange to me. All my life, I was told that I needed to lie back and spread my legs and accept what my husband gave me, then bear as many children as I could. Yesterday–yesterday was the first I’d seen of what happens to fallen females. Sure, our priestess had described those houses to us, but when I was sitting in there, and you desired me, and I you–”

“I knew it,” Izgath interrupted me, and my cheeks flamed.

“Desire for females is shameful,” I said, ducking my head. I kicked a small rock out of my path.

Izgath stopped us completely. “Desire makes the act of making children more pleasurable. It’s nothing to fear. Your priestess seems a bit…harsh.”

I huffed a laugh and shook my head. “That’s one word you could use to describe her.”

A mix of emotions crossed Izgath’s face. “There are ways to prevent children, if that is what has you hesitating.”

Blowing out a breath, I nodded. “That is part of it. Though I might be barren. Vagach and I coupled for years, nearly daily, without success.”

Something flashed in Izgath’s eyes I couldn’t quite read. He looked me up and down, almost judgmentally. “Then I assume you find the act to be…horrendous, given how you appeared to us at first.”

Tears pricked at my eyes as he managed to name exactly what I felt. I blinked them away. “Perhaps. Though yesterday showed me that there was more to it than I ever experienced.”

Izgath nodded, then took a slow step forward, silently indicating that we should catch up to the others. “I’ll protect you, Assyria. Not only with your magic, but with everything else.”

His words slammed into me, leaving me stunned as he walked away. The male barely knew me, and yet he offered me these grand words. I couldn’t decide what to make of the entire situation. Regaining my composure, I fell in line with him as we picked our way out of the camp.

We said nothing else as we approached Uzadaan, Dromak, and the twins, who were already wrangling a group of recruits away from their evening exercise to begin testing. They remained behind to oversee the hand-to-hand training, calling out secondary groups in case we should cycle through everyone in the first.

Somewhere between Jaku’s tent and the clearing, Uzadaan had procured parchment and a board to write on. Settling into the soldier’s stance, I surveyed the operations, glancing at Izgath every few moments, wondering what his plan was.

More often than not, he was looking at me, too.

After the line of males had cycled past Uzadaan, they lined up, shoulder to shoulder, and faced us. Dromak and Izgath stepped forward, surveying the group, while Uzadaan and I slunk back, bracing ourselves against a nearby wagon. I glanced over the parchment, finding a list of names, eye color, and reported magic written in a neat script. Uzadaan scratched one word in the top right corner—rating.

Dromak called out the one on the end, a tall, lanky male I thought I recognized. His apple-colored eyes danced with worry as he stepped toward the designated spot. The others watched on as he closed his eyes and tuned into his magic. Izgath waited about a dozen paces in front of him, shadows swirling around his muscular arms. I couldn’t help the desire that washed through me at images of those arms wrapping around me.

I’ll protect you.

Could I trust him, though? What if he were like the Incubi Priestess Anara warned us about, the ones whose smooth words would lead us astray and leave us with an F branded on our wrists?

The male’s eyes snapped open, and he stretched a hand toward Izgath. Izgath remained impassive, unaffected by whatever this male’s magic was. A flash of something caught the sun, and then I realized that a dagger Izgath normally strapped to his calf was flying through the air. It didn’t whip through it like a forceful gale, but rather, it sailed on a light breeze, eventually landing in the male’s outstretched hand.

Scratching tore my attention to Uzadaan. Beside the male’s name he marked a two. Unable to stop myself, I asked, “What’s the scale?”

“Five,” Uzadaan replied simply. “He’s a Summoner, but not a powerful one. Unless he can increase the speed or distance from which he can summon objects, he isn’t as useful as someone with a three or higher.”

My stomach turned over at the cold, unfeeling way Uzadaan judged the male. He seemed to sense my shock. “When your life is on the line, it’s best to be realistic. Coating the truth in sugar won’t save your life.”

“I know,” I muttered, kicking myself. Vagach viewed the world through a similar lens, and he would have understood immediately. Honestly, how Uzadaan and Dromak hadn’t figured out I wasn’t who I said I was simply by little mistakes like these was beyond my comprehension. It was ironic that I’d been given such a unique power and had none of the proper temperament to use it. I hated pretending to be someone I wasn’t.

The next male took his place across from Dromak this time, and I watched with bated breath as he called on his magic. At first, nothing happened. The male didn’t so much as flinch as he stared Dromak down. So subtle I almost didn’t notice, the air around him shifted, changed, glimmered. Squinting, I tried to discern what was happening.

Then, Dromak shrieked, falling to his knees. I started forward, but Uzadaan caught my arm and tugged me back to his side. Without even looking at me, he scratched a four beside the name of a blood-eyed male. Nightmares, his magic read. That was when I understood the screaming and shimmering air. The male released Dromak from his terror, and the Vezető sucked in a sharp breath before lurching to his feet.

“Okay, who is next?” he shouted, clearly trying to brush off his experience.

Another male stepped forward, sporting cardinal eyes. His demonstration was lackluster as he was barely able to draw on anything other than shadows. Uzadaan marked him as a one, followed by the next three males, all with cardinal and crimson eyes. A cherry-eyed male turned himself invisible using shadow alone, and for that, along with how he finally reappeared after a handful more males had their turn, Uzadaan gave him a four.

“Why wasn’t he a five? That was impressive,” I asked.

Uzadaan shrugged. “Fives are usually reserved for extremely unique and powerful magic wielders, like Binders, Callers, and Speakers. Invisibility is more common than you would think, along with Suppressors and those who can create nightmares and chaos. Or those like Dromak who are Destructors.”

“The Halálhívó is a Caller, right?” I asked.

Uzadaan nodded. “And Kral Xannirin is a Speaker, since he can communicate with spirits in other worlds.”

My brows shot up my forehead. I had no idea that was the Kral’s power, or that it was even possible to speak to souls that had passed on. Was his magic common knowledge? Because if it was, I couldn’t fathom how he didn’t have a line of people at the doors to Gyor Palace begging for one final opportunity to speak with loved ones who had died.

“What’s your power, Vagach?” Uzadaan asked, tearing me from my spiraling thoughts.

Ice flooded my veins. What did I say? Did I tell him I was a Corrupter because that was what Vagach was? What if he asked for a demonstration? I couldn’t pull it off. I opened my mouth to say something, but no words would come out.

“Uzadaan!” Izgath shouted, stealing the ruby-eyed male’s attention. “That was a four.”

“I know,” he called back.

Izgath jogged toward us. “You weren’t paying attention.”

“Yes, I was,” Uzadaan argued, gesturing to his nearly-full parchment. Indeed, only a few names remained unrated.

Izgath shrugged after he looked it over. “Vagach, why don’t you be the demonstration partner now. I’ll take your place as Uzadaan’s assistant.”

I nodded, relief crashing through me. The way Izgath caught my eye told me I needed to pull myself together. Even across the distance that had separated us, he’d seen my distress. And if he could see it, so could everyone else. So I dragged in a breath, running a hand over my short hair, and pushed off the wagon, striding toward the line of males.

Steeling my spine, I faced off against the next one. Dromak stood off to one side, arms crossed, while he studied the recruit. The carmine-eyed male unsheathed a knife from his waist and then strode toward me before dropping to one knee in front of me, “Kormánzó Vagach, may I please have your hand? I have blood magic, and I need yours to demonstrate my power.”

“Um, yes, okay,” I said, offering it to him. A mix of curiosity and apprehension peaked inside me as his blade drifted closer to my palm. In a gentle motion, he drew a line of blood there, then licked it. Surprise had me jerking back in horror.

“Did you just lick me?” I snapped.

“Apologizes, Kormánzó, but that is how my magic works. I can track you using your blood. If you wouldn’t mind finding a place within the camp to hide, I can demonstrate it to you and the other Vezető,” he said, pushing to his feet.

“Alright then. How far do you need me to go?” I questioned, blinking rapidly as I tried to process what the fuck was happening.

“Not far. I will wait one minute before following,” he replied, tucking his hands behind his lower back and widening his legs.

Nodding, I took off at a jog, mostly to put space between me and the male who licked my palm. Dipping between two wagons, I ticked the seconds off on my fingers while I scanned for a good spot to conceal myself. After finding nothing but tents, I decided to double back to one of the wagons that held sacks of potatoes and barrels of apples. It was the perfect place to hide.

With only fifteen seconds remaining, I clambered into it, half-weaving, half-stumbling over everything packed into it and hoping I wasn’t making too much of a commotion.

When the sixty second mark passed, I stilled, close to the front of the wagon, where a small slit barely large enough for me in my Assyria form to slide through separated the driver from the goods inside. My heart thundered in my chest as I waited to be discovered. After less than a minute, a sound from the front of the wagon drew my attention, and a pair of carmine eyes filled the small slot.

“Found him,” the male undergoing testing called out, straightening.

A familiar laugh filtered through the wood. “You get a three for that one since Vagach was making such a disturbance.”

I rolled my eyes and clambered out of the wagon, coming face to face with Dromak sporting a shit-eating grin. “I didn’t have a lot of time, nor were there many places to challenge our soldier’s magic,” I replied, dropping to the ground with a thud.

“Aye, I’m certain that was the issue,” Dromak snorted, turning on his heel and leading us back to the group of males being assessed. Those who had been exercising walked in the opposite direction, heading to bathe in a nearby stream and prepare dinner. “Now let’s finish up these last two so I can eat, I’m fucking hungry.”

“When are you not?” I replied, amusement filling my tone.

“Never. Go stand over there and call on your shadows so that one can suppress your magic.” Dromak pointed to the cherry-eyed male waiting for us.

Fuck.

My heart stopped. I hadn’t even considered the possibility of a Suppressor being in the mix, and with the power he surely wielded, who knew how far his range was? Even if I stood where Izgath and Uzadaan did, he might have the power to reach me and rip my magic form straight off me, leaving me very, very Assyria in a field filled with males.

This is it. This is my end.

Ice shattered through my veins as I managed one step forward, then another. Every nerve in my body screamed at me to run, to flee, to save myself. Instead, I walked to my execution. Staying might offer me the slightest chance of living, whereas running would only prove to the others I had something to hide. A full body tremble wanted to rip free, along with a panicked scream, and I suppressed both of them, a silent, compulsive prayer slipping between my racing thoughts to the Fates to save me.