Текст книги "Eyes of devious burgundy"

Автор книги: Lacey Lehotzky

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Текущая страница: 16 (всего у книги 43 страниц)

Heat bloomed across my skin despite the colder air in the mountains. Izgath set his plate to the side, then mirrored me in his position on the ground. His garnet eyes reflected the lust and apprehension in my burgundy ones.

“Thank you,” I whispered, gaze drifting to where my fingers twisted in my hair.

“Ever since we left Stryi, I’ve felt this…draw to you. At first, I thought it was because my magic read strangeness from you. But now that I know the truth, I wonder if it’s the Fates pushing us together,” Izgath murmured. “We’re not mates. The bond would have been sealed the moment our eyes locked. And yet there is an undeniable pull from me to you. Don’t you feel it?”

“Yes,” I breathed, because it was true. “The Fates…who knows their plans for me, for us, for you. I’d always thought that the Reaper had cursed me with Vagach for a husband, but now, I’m starting to think the Weaver has a different path in mind for me.”

Vagach was merely a stepping stone to put me on this insane trajectory, hurtling toward a war that had felt like a distant story more than anything. Maybe, just maybe, I wasn’t meant to be the wife of a Kormánzó and fill my womb with offspring. Plenty of the girls from my village aspired to have a brood of their own and a loving husband. Many accomplished that and were utterly, blissfully, sickeningly happy. I wanted that feeling for myself. Perhaps my destiny waited beyond what I’d always been told was my purpose, and all I needed to do was stretch out and claim it.

“Tell me what you want, Assyria.” Izgath scooted ever so slightly closer.

My heart skipped a beat. Izgath’s magic must have been stronger than Priestess Anara warned us, because suddenly I wanted nothing more than to spill all my darkest secrets to him, to have him touch me like Dromak had touched the fallen female.

I’d been instantly attracted to Izgath, and then as we worked together over the past weeks, I’d only grown more interested. After he discovered me bathing, that had only intensified, on both our parts. And then our encounter in Osijek. Day by day, this tension had grown between us, and in this moment, I was poised on the precipice of falling into him.

But could I do it? Could I trust him?

I sucked in a breath as my gaze collided with his. “I’m not sure what I want, or how to do it,” I whispered, my own voice sounding so foreign after disuse.

“Let me guide you,” Izgath purred, closing the remaining distance between us. I jerked when his fingers brushed against the bare skin of my throat and then trailed down to the buttons on the front of my shirt.

“Okay,” I breathed, nodding. Every place his fingers brushed my skin was like fire, and so slowly, the fabric fell away, revealing the swell of my breasts. My nipples peaked against the band that bound them, drawing Izgath’s attention, as the shirt fluttered to the floor. But when he swept his gaze to mine again, my breath hitched.

“You are the most exquisite female I’ve ever seen, Assyria. I don’t give compliments like that lightly. You saw where we were in Osijek. I’ve been to many of them. But never have I felt so inexplicably drawn to someone as I am to you.” His fingers brushed the skin above my navel, trailing up the center of my chest until they worked around the back of my neck and twisted in my braid.

“Are you certain it’s not your magic?” I managed to wring out, heart working in overdrive. His face drifted closer, and my eyes were drawn to his lips.

“I’m certain,” he said, his breath ghosting over me and causing a shiver. “I know the difference between lust and divine attraction.”

Unconsciously, I’d tangled my fingers in his shirt. The heat from his body radiated into mine, and he groaned, long and low. His hand splayed across my lower back, then tugged me closer so my bound breasts brushed against the hard planes of his chest.

With his free hand, he wrapped up my braid and directed my head to the side, his nose trailing down my neck to the crook of my shoulder. “Izgath,” I panted, not quite sure what I was asking for.

He smiled against my shoulder, teeth scraping it ever so slightly. “Assyria.”

My name in his mouth was decadent.

A tendril of that sensual magic caressed the bare parts of me, and I bit down on my lip to stifle a moan. Izgath lowered his lips to my ear. “It is best that you keep as quiet as you can.”

I nodded, and Izgath withdrew. He guided me upright until we knelt in front of each other. Izgath unfastened his leather armor, tossing it to the side, and then pulled the white tunic beneath it over his head, revealing those cut abs that I couldn’t help but admire every time we ran.

“Fates,” he groaned, eyes roaming my body. “Lie on the bedroll.”

Hesitantly, I rose, glancing between Izgath and the pile of blankets on his side of the tent.

As if he sensed my hesitation, Izgath grasped my hand in his and tugged. “We stop when you want to stop. My magic senses everything sexual about a person, and I feel your nervousness.”

Swallowing, I nodded. “I am a bit nervous, yes. I want this. I just…”

“You haven’t been with anyone besides Vagach,” he stated.

I nodded again.

Blowing out a breath, he reached out for my other hand and back stepped toward the makeshift bed. “Trust me to make you feel good. Tell me to stop if it gets to be too much. I promise we won’t couple tonight.”

Confusion dipped my brows together. “But that’s what I’m for? To bear children. Why wouldn’t you want that opportunity, especially with my power?”

Izgath reclined on the blankets, resting his head on the small pillow, then tugged me on top of him so I straddled his waist. “Because I know the risks of you, of us, getting caught. And because now is not the time for children. There will be plenty of time once we’ve slaughtered the Angels and made homes in their land.”

“But why would we—if we’re not going to⁠—”

Izgath moved his hands to my waist, then rolled his hips beneath mine, digging his hardness into my center. I pressed my lips together to smother a gasp. “Coupling is about more than children. It’s about pleasure, too. Though I’m sure your priestess did not teach you that, being female.”

The tip of his finger touched the bottom of my chin, lifting it from where I had been ogling his abs. “Trust me.”

“Okay,” I whispered, chest heaving. Without warning, he flipped us so that I was flat on my back beneath him, hands pressed to his chest. For a moment, his face gave way to Vagach’s and I tensed, sucking in a sharp breath.

Izgath smoothed my hair back and crooned, “You’re safe with me, Assyria.”

Nodding, I forced myself to unwind. Izgath’s muscles rippled as he languidly lowered himself. His face hovered over mine, lips so close I could easily lift my chin and kiss him.

My eyes drifted closed as that soft sensation swept across my skin. I moaned, long and low, body arching of its own accord when it swept up my thighs. “Let my magic envelop you,” Izgath purred, his hot breath pulling goosebumps to my skin. He planted a featherlight kiss on my collarbone. Warmth bloomed from the spot, spreading through my body like a lazy river, taking all tension lingering in my muscles with it. By the time it reached my toes, I was relaxed in a way that I’d never been, well, ever in my life. I wanted nothing more than to remain in this blissful state for eternity.

Then his lips met with mine.

The kiss wasn’t earth shattering, but rather a slow, sensual build like a thunderstorm rolling in from the distance. The first few passes of his lips against mine were teasing, exploratory. The tendrils of his magic pressed against my skin, eliciting a shiver, and then something between us broke. His hands slipped beneath me, one on my lower back and the other on the back of my neck, crushing me against him. A low whimper escaped me unbidden, and then he stole it from my mouth with an insistent swipe of his tongue.

I’d never been kissed with such passion, and I lost myself to the taste of smoky herbs on his tongue, the heady scent of his musk, and the heat from his touch. My tongue twined with his in a natural dance, and with a masculine groan, he sucked my lower lip into his mouth and then released it with a pop.

“Wrap your legs around my waist, Assyria,” he instructed in my ear, the smoothness of his voice making me tremble in the most delicious way. I did as he bid, feeling his hardness against my core. A small gasp left me as he kissed the spot below my ear and ground into me.

Already, I enjoyed this moment of intimacy far more than any time with Vagach.

Tilting my head, I silently requested more of Izgath’s lips on my neck. He obliged, planting slow, languid caresses along its length. Beneath my palm, his heart pounded, increasing its pace like that of a horse breaking into a gallop. Those strong hands released me, coming to brace on either side of my head. With the newfound space, his tongue traced a path to the swell of my breasts.

I tipped my head back and savored every touch.

Fingers skimmed along my ribs, finding the knot I’d tied in the strip of fabric and giving it a tug. In moments, the band loosened, slipping away and revealing my breasts. Izgath cursed, and I lifted my head, finding him staring with rapt fascination.

Then, his eyes met mine. “May I?”

“Yes,” I breathed, moving my hands from his chest to his sculpted shoulders to give him more room.

A hunger pierced his gaze, and without hesitation, he dropped his head to one nipple and sucked it into his mouth. He anticipated the noise I would make better than I did, for not a second after, he slapped a hand over my mouth, stifling my cry. His eyes glittered with amusement.

“I’ll try to be quiet,” I whimpered around his hand, but the sound came out more muffled than anything.

He released the nipple with a drag of his teeth, then slowly removed the bind from my mouth. “How I wish I didn’t have to muffle your cries, Assyria. You deserve to sing your pleasure to the world.”

My core dripped with those words. Involuntarily, I ground against the hard length pressing into it. Izgath’s eyelashes fluttered with the movement, and his chin tipped up as he inhaled sharply. “Do you like that?” I whispered.

“Very, very much,” he groaned, the sound rumbling and low and fueling my desire to continue to move like that.

So I repeated the motion, again and again, while Izgath grabbed the back of my head and crashed my lips against his. My sensitive nipples brushed against his hard chest. Our tongues battled and fought for space with one another, and the exchange of air between us made my head swim. Every nerve was thrumming under his touch. His magic deepened as my pleasure heightened.

Izgath broke our kiss far too soon. Looking up at me with pupils so large they almost blotted out his garnet irises, Izgath said, “Tell me when to stop.”

“Don’t stop,” I pleaded, body brimming with tension. My mouth popped open in a silent cry as he ground into me, muscles flexing where he braced them on either side of my head.

Lowering himself, he hovered over my breasts, watching me as he flicked his tongue over one, then the other. When he’d wetted them thoroughly, he blew cold air across them, eliciting a smattering of goosebumps across my skin. Then, he set to work on them, sucking, tugging, licking, nipping, until I was a puddle of pleasure beneath him. Dromak hadn’t taken a third of the time Izgath had to pleasure the fallen female in Osijek, and Fates, I never wanted Izgath to stop.

My thighs were slick and my core throbbed with need in a way I’d never imagined possible. “Izgath,” I whispered, the sound so filled with need, and yet I did not care.

He stilled, then lifted his gaze to meet mine. A noise of protest slipped out of me. “Yes?”

“I want more,” I panted, body so taught it might snap at any moment.

A grin settled across his features. “More what?”

“Pleasure.” I grasped one of his hands and moved it toward my center. He ground into me once, hard, and my eyes rolled to the back of my head. Then he left me bereft, sitting back on his heels. Heat swept across my chest and cheeks as he remained still, an expression of something I couldn’t quite place on his face. “Did I do something wrong?” I asked, brows dipping into a frown.

“No, Assyria. I am in awe of you.” Without dropping my gaze, he reached for the waist of Vagach’s pants, loose now that they were around my own hips. Grazing his thumbs against my heated skin, he tugged them down, stopping momentarily so I could lift my rear and help him remove them completely. “How Vagach could have caged such a beautiful creature is beyond my comprehension.”

Bracing his hands on either side of me, he dropped his lips to the bone and kissed it. My breath hitched as he repeated the action on the opposite side. Then, he dropped his mouth lower, hovering it so his breath brushed against my dripping center. “So wet, Assyria. I bet I could make you come with a curl of my finger. Tell me,” he paused, looking up at me, “have you ever orgasmed before?”

“No,” I breathed, so filled with want that I wouldn’t relax again until this tension inside me broke.

A rumble threaded with disappointment vibrated in his chest. “We will have to change that.”

Air stuttered in my chest.

One hand shifted and traced a fiery path along the outside of my thigh before dipping between and trailing up to my center. It passed through the slickness and stopped before the spot I really needed it. “Do you want me to touch you here?”

He brushed my slick folds with the barest of touches.

“Yes,” I stuttered out somehow.

I could almost feel his grin against my skin. He traced a featherlight path up to my clit.

“Oh!” I gasped as he pressed. My hips bucked at the flood of sensation. Rather than continue to touch me there, his hand drifted higher and settled me down.

“Quiet now,” he hummed, and then he rested his hands on the sensitive skin inside my thighs and spread my legs wider. My core clenched as his hot breath brushed across it. His fingers crept closer until they swiped at the wetness gathered there.

Another wave of Izgath’s magic swept over me, and I relaxed again with a sigh. Using two fingers, he parted me, and then one slipped inside. Air fled me as he pushed into the third knuckle and curled it before dragging it all the way out again.

I bit my lip as he continued the motion, legs trembling as pleasure built and built. Then, his thumb pressed into my clit, and bliss burst from the motion, filling me with a trillion tiny stars. But Izgath didn’t stop, didn’t let me gather myself. I lost all sense of time or reason as he wrung every ounce of my first orgasm from me.

“Izgath,” I panted, finally returning to my body and realizing I’d twisted my fingers in his blankets in an attempt to ground myself.

He grinned against me, then rose, wiping his mouth. “I’d say that was a long time coming.”

I was molten but quickly cooling into a mushy goo. Every muscle in my body was limp, and exhaustion pulled at every fiber of my being. I blinked up at Izgath and that triumphant grin he wore. “It was incredible.”

He huffed a laugh, then shuffled around so he rested behind me. An arm draped over my waist, pulling me flush. His hardness dug into my back, but he made no move to relieve it in any way.

“Don’t you want to–” I began, but he cut me off with a nip on my shoulder.

“No, you’ve had enough fun for one day. Can’t give you everything all at once or you’ll tire of me, Assyria.” The way Izgath said my name sent a shiver skittering across my skin. His voice caressed that word much the same as his magic had caressed my skin.

I huffed a laugh, eyes growing heavy. “Thank you, Izgath. For everything.”

If he responded, I did not know, for sleep sank into me the moment the final word slipped past my lips.

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20

Uzhhorod from a distance was like a bloodstain on the valley that nestled it. From the adobe construction of the rolling buildings that composed the city to the deep gray basalt pillars of Gyor Palace elevated on a hill in perfect view of the mountains, it looked as though the Fates had taken a wicked knife and sliced into their palms, letting their red-black blood splash along the area to develop it. Despite the season being midsummer, a chill remained in the thin air, and in the distance, the snow-capped peaks winked in the sun.

“I never tire of this view,” Izgath commented. We sat atop our mounts, watching as our units descended down the slope and into the valley.

“I can’t imagine that anyone would,” I replied, lifting my hand to my eyes to block the midday sun. Wonder bloomed inside me as I swept my gaze across the massive expanse. “Which way to the Angel Realm?”

“That way,” he said, pointing to the west, where if I squinted and tilted my head just right, the wall that ran between the two realms became visible. “And there,” he swung his finger back toward Uzhhorod, “is the war camp.”

My brows shot up my forehead. How had I missed it on my earlier perusal?

A sprawling array of tents in shades of gray, black, and red dotted the hillside beyond the city’s walls, with plumes of smoke drifting on a lazy breeze away from the wall side of the mountains. Demons the size of ants moved about much like the tiny creatures did, no doubt busying themselves with training, sharpening weapons, or finding food and drink. The size of the war camp rivaled that of Uzhhorod, and with the thick line of other squads behind us on the road, it would only increase.

“How is that possible?” I murmured, awestruck.

Dromak chuckled, and I started, having been so wrapped up in the landscape that I didn’t hear him approach. “It’s possible because the Fates want us to win. The Angels stand no chance against us now.”

While I wasn’t as sycophantic as the others about the war against the Angels, the Halálhívó, and the Kral, I had to admit the force was impressive. Among that many, I would not be missed. A twinge of guilt swept through me as I glanced sidelong at Izgath. The male had no idea I planned to slip away among the chaos of our arrival.

With how things had progressed between us, I couldn’t leave without saying goodbye. I only hoped he wouldn’t stop me, that he would understand why, and that he wouldn’t find trouble after my departure.

“That’s the last of us. Let’s go, brothers,” Dromak pronounced, turning his horse to the road. When I tore my attention away from the breathtaking view, I saw that he was right. The last of our supply wagons had passed, and below, the first had made it to the fourth switchback in the road, nearly closing in on the base of the hill. Behind us, a line of other soldiers and wagons waited to take their turn down the steep, winding incline.

Digging my heels into Blaeze’s side, I hurried him along behind Izgath and Dromak. The three of us rode in single file, silence filling the air as we concentrated on the road. I refused to look over each passing edge, having been forewarned about the effects of it. The height was dizzying enough without adding the possibility of a sheer drop should one lean too far.

I was the last to arrive at the base of the hill, where a long, thick road stretched straight to Uzhhorod. Even the road wasn’t flat, with moments of dips and valleys, one side raised higher than the other. Alongside it, though, males and females alike worked on those sections, digging deep gouges into the earth in an attempt to level them out.

They paid us no attention as we passed. But why should they? With the number of soldiers teeming through these hills, we were nothing fantastical, like Jaku and the others had been in the quiet southern plains around Stryi.

A hush settled over our group as we marched the remaining distance to the war camp. True to his word, Izgath had managed to prevent any testing my magic, though how he accomplished it I did not know.

But the lack of verbalization among my companions did not mean we rode in silence; no, a dull roar grew and grew and grew until it morphed into something bigger, something hypnotic as we approached the rolling tents.

The organized chaos of the camp was unmistakable. At one juncture in the road, a group of ten males waited, parchments and boards in hand, scratching furiously as a mix of leather-clad and metal-clad males spoke to them. To the left, the path led to the war camp; to the right, the path led to Uzhhorod. Behind them, a third road strung the two together, and a constant stream of people blotted out whatever waited beyond it.

Jaku hopped from his horse and spoke with one of the males. Izgath motioned for me to join them, so I tossed my reins to Morrt, one of the males I trusted most in my unit, before following Izgath and Dromak to our Százados. Uzadaan, Gnim, and Grex were already there.

“How many do you bring, Százados?” the crimson-eyed male asked, ink poised to drip on the parchment.

“Six units, each of three hundred and forty,” he stated, and the male scratched away.

“The Halálhívó wishes to send anyone with ruby eyes or higher for enhanced training. How many are in your unit?” the male asked, not looking up.

Shock nearly popped my mouth open, and it was only through years of plastering bland expressions on my face that I managed to hold it together.

Uzadaan handed his notes on each male’s magic and rated power to Jaku, who quickly flipped through and pulled the pages he needed. “Apologies, I need a moment to count them,” Jaku grumbled.

I shifted from foot to foot while he and Uzadaan worked, not daring to glance at Izgath.

“One hundred eighty,” Jaku finally replied, handing the papers over.

The male flipped through quickly, then made notes on his own board and Jaku’s papers. “Incubi and Succubi will remain with their current units.”

My heart plummeted. Izgath and I would be separated. But that was what I wanted, right? That would make it easier to slip away unseen.

Jaku thumbed through the returned papers, and the male made one final note before returning his attention to the Százados. “Excellent. For now, please check in with the operations master ahead and he will give you everything you need: new tents, armor, weapons. After the viewing ceremony tomorrow, you’ll all be reassigned to your new units.”

“Thank you,” Jaku said, and the male offered him a salute.

We turned as a group and walked back to our waiting squad. My heart thundered in my ears with each step toward Blaeze as the reality of the situation settled across my shoulders.

We were moments away from entering a camp with tens of thousands, if not over a hundred thousand Demons roaming about, more than I’d ever seen collectively in my life. Not only that, but these Demons possessed powers that could render mine useless. Any number of things could happen to strip away Vagach’s form and reveal me, a lone female, in the middle of a camp filled with violent males.

You’ve got this, Assyria.

Sucking in a shaky breath, I steeled my spine and mounted my horse, following dutifully along with the males with whom I’d spent the last month traveling to Uzhhorod. All the while, I scanned the camp, studying all entry and exit points, as well as the singular road that led between it and the city walls.

The stream of people between the two was largely male, though I thought a female or two held their heads high among the mix. They wore the billowy black robes of priestesses, as well as opaque black veils, secured in place with silver circlets. I cursed internally. I had nothing in my bag that would work to cover myself like one of them.

I need to corner one and knock her out long enough to study her form and take her clothes.

So deep was my plotting that I didn’t realize we’d reached the operations center. Dozens of males ran about, collecting items from the wagons that needed repair, directing others to park for unloading, while still more shuffled the recruits into neat lines. Each station handed over leather armor and a basic sword to those who did not have one already.

A numbness flowed over me as I attempted to focus on where I was and not on the sheer mass of people around me. The line moved quickly, especially as Izgath, Dromak, and Uzadaan helped their charges in selecting sizes and weapons from the stockpiles of both.

I watched as the group who had once belonged to Zurronar exchanged the small, travel tents for larger ones, and Morrt even hoisted a flag bearing a galloping horse into the wagon before the crowd swallowed him.

A cleared throat had me tearing my attention to the male in front of me. Correcting myself, I stepped forward, and the male behind the table thrust new clothing into my hands after one quick glance. “These should work, if they don’t there’s more places through the camp where you can exchange for a different size.”

“Thank you,” I said, accepting it and backing away as quickly as I could. I nearly tripped over the male behind me, barely managing to catch the short sword before it tumbled off the top of the pile and into my foot.

Ice shattered through my veins, panic clawing at my throat, as I attempted to find my way among the mayhem. There were so many people, and my vision tunneled as I was overwhelmed with the sound, the smell of them all. Sucking in a breath, I shoved toward the stark cliffs in the distance, hoping they would guide me. Finally, I broke through the throng, and Izgath was waiting for me on horseback, holding Blaeze’s reins.

I could have cried with relief.

“Here, give me that.” He gestured to the sword.

I readily handed it over, flipping open the leather bag attached to Blaeze’s saddle and stuffing as much of the leather armor in there as I could. The buckle barely reached the last notch, but I was able to secure it. Shoving my foot into the stirrup, I mounted him, taking a moment to survey the squad. Already, a stream of males trekked around the outside of the camp. Morrt ambled behind a wagon brimming with tents.

Izgath clicked his tongue, and his stallion trotted forward. Blaeze didn’t need any prompting to follow, and for that I was grateful, because I still struggled to breathe from the press of people. A few minutes later, we arrived at the edge, where lines and lines of tents waited, flaps open, while others were in various stages of being erected.

“The Vezető and Százados of each squad take the first row of tents,” Izgath explained, pointing to where Jaku stood beside Morrt and a few others securing the flag into the rocky earth. “The soldiers double or triple up in these tents. They are bigger than the ones we had on the road because we’ll be in place for longer. Makes more sense for everyone to have a little more space.”

Thank the Fates I have a tent alone.

“How is anyone supposed to find their way back here?” I asked him as we entered the first row, already losing my place among the tents set in as straight of rows as the rolling hills allowed.

Izgath jerked his head to the side. “The Lovak flag. Each squad’s location is marked by them at the top right corner of the section. If you look over there,” he turned, pointing again, and I followed his finger, “the Kutya flag is the next visible one. That whole section belongs to another squad under Parancsok Olet.”

Nodding, I noted every flag visible around us. I’d need all the help I could get navigating around and out of this place when the time came. The last thing I wanted was my identity to be discovered because of a foolish mistake such as losing my place.

As we approached the top right corner of our section, we dismounted, leading both horses toward the small group gathered outside of Jaku’s tent. Before we reached it, Morrt stopped me. I nodded at Izgath to continue on without me.

“Kormánzó Vagach, it’s been an honor serving under you. I know we’ll part ways tomorrow, but I wanted to express how impressed I’ve been with how you’ve adapted to soldier life. You’ll make a fine fighter yourself by the time you make it to the battlefield,” Morrt said.

For a moment, I didn’t know what to say, but then I cleared my throat and held out my hand. Morrt clasped arms with me and squeezed. I returned the gesture. “Take care of yourself out there. And thank you for all your help over these past few weeks. It’s because of your assistance I was able to slip into my role so easily.”

He stepped back, dropped to one knee, and bowed his head. “The honor is mine, Kormánzó. I will take Blaeze from you and lead him to the other Lovak squad horses.”

“Thank you, Morrt.” Unfastening my bag, I slid it off Blaeze’s back, then handed him the reins. With one last pat on his chestnut rump, I watched both of them disappear, along with a few other horses, around the corner. I glanced around, ensuring that everyone was busy unpacking and preparing to settle into our temporary home. Then, I slipped into my tent and secured the ties. The roar of activity was only slightly muffled by the canvas surrounding me. I could scarcely hear myself think, and my every nerve was alight, every muscle lined with tension.

At least Izgath had taken a moment to explain everything to me slowly. My mind was careening with this new information, and every time I grasped for something sturdy, it slipped through my fingers.

As if my thoughts had summoned the male, his smooth voice slipped through the canvas flaps. “Vagach?”

Thankfully, I hadn’t dropped my magic. “Just a moment,” I called out, unsure exactly how loud I needed to be with the noise surrounding us. Tossing my bag to one side, I made quick work of loosening the ties and allowing Izgath to enter. This new tent was taller and wider than the one I’d had on the road, and Izgath stood easily at his full height.

Izgath’s brows dipped. “You can let go now, Assyria. I’ve got you.”

Those words were like an anchor, and as I released my magic, I realized how adrift I felt, like I had been charting a course forward and when I reached my destination, I somehow found myself as lost as I had been before starting my journey.

Izgath wrapped me in his embrace as if he could sense my anxiety. “I don’t want to part from you.”

I lifted my arms and wrapped them around his torso, turning my head to the side so I could listen to the steady beat of his heart. Time dragged as we stood there, and wave after wave of confusing emotions crashed through me. I couldn’t find the words to say, because honestly, I wasn’t sure how to proceed. Somehow, in the month we’d been together, Izgath had clawed his way into my heart and the reality of leaving him now left an acute ache akin to the one that surfaced whenever I thought of my parents and sister.