Текст книги "Eyes of devious burgundy"
Автор книги: Lacey Lehotzky
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Текущая страница: 36 (всего у книги 43 страниц)
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50
As dusk fell, Rokath and Rapp led me through the maze of tents and into a small clearing that hugged the rugged valley walls. Grem and Zeec trotted alongside me, only peeling off when they spotted a trickle of water splashing off the rough face.
“This should be private enough for a lesson,” Rapp stated, giving me a wink before settling on a boulder.
“Aye,” Rokath grumbled, glancing behind me at the males readying themselves for the evening’s rest. Spices and the scent of roasting meat drifted on a light breeze, making my stomach grumble. After nearly puking my dinner up the previous evening from how hard Rokath had pushed me, we’d opted to delay our meal.
The Halálhívó’s intense regard settled over me. Those thick brows dipped ever so slightly over his deep burgundy eyes, and his jaw was set in a hard line. I squared my shoulders and raised my fists. “I’m ready,” I said, determination threading through me.
He made a noise deep in his throat and then circled me, shadows swirling around his muscled arms. Dragging in a breath, I let my own expand out of me with my exhale.
Then, he lunged. I barely managed to slip beneath his strike and move out of the way before he pressed forward again, sending me dancing backward.
“Use your magic!” Rapp called out, and Grem released a sharp bark of encouragement.
With Rokath’s next punch, I used the shadows to knock his hand to the side and then followed up with a kick to his thigh. “Good,” Rokath praised, his gravelly voice rolling over the word. “Don’t hold back, Assyria. You will not be able to hurt me.”
As he circled out, I aimed a swift kick to his calf. “You sure about that?” I teased, offering him a saccharine smile.
His face remained impassive despite my own stinging shin from the harsh contact. “That smart mouth of yours will only land you in trouble,” he growled. My core clenched from a heady mix of the heat in his eyes and the undercurrent of threat in his tone.
“Or on your dick,” I muttered under my breath.
I’d spent far too much time among the males of this army; my mouth was running as crudely as theirs these days.
Rokath raised a brow. “Would you like that, little imposter?”
I swallowed and pointedly ignored his question. Channeling my energy elsewhere, I feinted movement to my left, just like he’d taught me the previous evening, only to deliver another kick to his thick thigh. He caught my foot and yanked me forward, hiking me higher on his hip. “This is where you need to place a kick like that,” he reminded me, pressing my shin into the soft spot below his ribcage.
Exertion and our close proximity sent my heart thudding in my chest. The bond too made its pleasure known, humming contentedly. We lingered there far longer than we should have before Rokath released his grip. Stepping away was harder than I anticipated.
Tension hung like a heavy fog around us, and I almost forgot Rapp and the hounds were with us until Rapp blew away the cloud with a joke. “Keep that up and I won’t be able to sleep tonight,” he chuckled.
Heat crept into my cheeks as Rokath pierced him with a lethal glare. “Again,” he grumbled to me.
I pulled on the strings of my memory and attempted one move after another, both from what I’d learned while pretending to be Vagach and what Rokath had demonstrated the previous evening. He had been displeased with my sloppy form and had groused endlessly about how his Vezető needed to be more mindful of how and what they taught the new recruits.
So very typical of him.
The remainder of our training focused on the basics again—where to aim certain strikes, how to avoid ones flying in my direction, combinations that flowed well together.
It wasn’t until I was utterly drenched in sweat that he said, “Lie on the ground.”
“Excuse me?” I spluttered out, mouth popping open.
Rapp howled with laughter. How he continued to find Rokath and I’s situation so amusing was impossible for me to understand. I got the sense he was rooting for us to either kill each other or couple right in the open. Maybe both at the same time.
Rokath pinched the bridge of his nose. “A much bigger male than you will likely try to put you on the ground where you are easiest to control. I want to show you a few ways to escape so that you can run away if necessary.”
“Oh,” I replied, a sheepish smile spreading across my face. I wiped sweat from my brow with the back of my hand. “I thought you intended something else.”
“I am aware,” he grumbled, slicing his attention to Rapp.
I sank to the earth, wincing as the dirt mixed with sweat and made me even more filthy than I already was. “Like this?”
“Flat on your back,” Rokath instructed. I settled there, trying to shove the obscene thoughts of him between my thighs into a tiny box where I could lock them away for all eternity.
Our bond flared as he straddled my hips. His riotous burgundy eyes disappeared for a moment, fingers flexing, as he attempted to regain control of himself. The lust that flowed between us was almost impossible to ignore, despite my best attempts.
Stupid mating bond.
Our size difference should have made his resting there crush me, and yet he pressed down with the barest hint of force. I realized then that he didn’t want to frighten me, that he wanted me to feel I had a semblance of power in the situation. My heart twisted as his eyes sprung open again and collided with mine.
“I’m going to place my hand around your neck, and I want you to use both of your arms to trap mine against your body and roll me off,” he murmured. Something hard dug into my belly. A low curse followed it.
Rolling my lips together, I smothered the snicker that threatened to escape. Yet when his strong fingers brushed against the sensitive skin under my jaw, a little sound that was just wanton enough to be embarrassing slipped out.
“Focus,” Rokath said through clenched teeth. Whether the warning was for him or for me, I wasn’t certain.
Sucking in much needed air, I hugged his arm to my chest and bridged my hips, tossing him off of me. He went easily, and I scrambled away before popping to my feet.
“Good,” he growled, sitting back on his heels. “We’ll do that a dozen more times so you imprint the motion on your muscles.”
The way they trembled as I lay on the ground again had nothing to do with the exertion of our training and everything to do with the way Rokath looked as he positioned himself above me. The tattoos that bunched and flexed across his bare torso. The way his arms rippled as he reached for my throat.
Fates, help me.
They must have heard, for I managed to do as many repetitions as Rokath required without requesting he remove the rest of his clothes. He placed increasing pressure on me, forcing me to use more strength to buck him off. After I failed three attempts in a row, he rose and proffered me his hand. “We will continue this tomorrow.”
I accepted the help and groaned as I returned to my feet. “A blessing from the Giver. I’m starving.”
“Me too,” Rapp interjected, once again reminding us of his presence.
Zeec trotted over and nudged my hand over his head until my fingers rested behind his ears. I gave them a scratch. “Greedy, greedy,” I cooed while Rokath retrieved his shirt.
Rapp approached with Grem. “You are improving, Assyria. More will come with time.”
“Thanks,” I sighed, glancing around as night continued to fall around us. Fires were alive and dancing all through the canyon, casting long shadows on the walls as the males moved about.
When Rokath returned, I asked, “So when can I start training with weapons?”
He cocked his head. “Why, so you can follow through on your original promise to kill me?”
I bit my lip through a grin. “Maybe.”
He rolled his eyes. “You need food to shut up that mouth of yours.”
Spinning on his heel was instruction enough to follow him. Rapp and I whispered insults about him, loud enough for Rokath to hear, while we traversed the chaos in search of food. As we ate, tossing morsels for the dogs, Rapp related the latest camp gossip, and I offered him my most scandalized and shocked reactions. After spending months in a war camp, I’d become immune to the crass words that Priestess Anara had always shamed. In all honesty, I felt more like one of the males than anything, despite being constantly reminded of my sex by the continued stares. At least Rokath had offered me a semblance of purpose of late with both scouting and fighting.
My mate remained silent as Rapp and I chatted, though he studied me with something unreadable hiding in his eyes. I glanced at him far too often, heat flaring between us at every crash of our gazes.
A young male emerged from the crowd carrying a scroll. My attention snagged on him immediately. Rokath glanced behind him, brows dipping.
“Halálhívó, this has just arrived from the High Priestess,” he said, kneeling and holding out the parchment.
Rokath accepted it, then broke the seal. What would Kiira write to him about now? We hadn’t had a message from her since we left, at least that I knew about.
“And for you, Hadvezér Rapp,” the messenger said, rising and proffering a second folded note to him.
Rapp accepted it while Rokath scanned a few lines of his. Then, he went utterly still. “Dismissed,” he growled to the male, who wasted no time leaving.
“What is it?” Rapp asked, reaching for Rokath’s paper.
Rokath didn’t relinquish it. I stopped breathing when he lifted his gaze. “It’s for you,” he murmured, and by the way he looked at me, nothing good was written there.
Kiira had been meant to write to me about Orlus…
I snatched at the page, but Rokath jerked it back. “Let’s return to our tent first.”
Tears pricked my eyes and I slapped a hand over my mouth to smother a sob. I managed to nod, and Rapp quickly gathered our plates while Rokath steered me through the crowd. Every step felt like a lifetime, my mind racing with all the possibilities. I quickened my pace as the first tears fell. I would not cry in front of all these males and reinforce their belief that females didn’t belong here with them.
“Give it to me,” I said with more intensity than I meant the moment we burst through the black flaps. Rokath offered the paper immediately. A set of candles flickered on the bedside table, and I raced to them for extra light to read by.
Assyria,
I’m so sorry it took so long to get this information to you. Much upheaval has occurred in Stryi since your departure. Priestess Anara quickly discovered your disappearance, and she forced a search of House Olmuth’s estate, where they found Vagach’s body buried among the trees. Olrus admitted his fault and swore that you fled out of fear he would do the same to you.
He was burned the following day.
The new Kormánzó Xannirin appointed journeyed south along with the new priestesses, as you remember, with strict instruction from us. By the time he arrived, Priestess Anara had inserted herself in the estate and stepped far outside the bounds of her Fates-given duty. Her actions regarding Olrus, especially given the information the new Kormánzó possessed, forced him to burn her too.
I am so sorry for your loss, Assyria. I hope you can take some comfort in the knowledge that Anara will never harm anyone again and by revealing her actions to me, you have ensured that any others practicing this ritual have been removed from their posts.
I hope Rokath has lost some of his brutish attitude toward you and that he will be able to comfort you now. If not, know I am thinking of you and praying for your healing.
All my love,
Kiira
The world spun, and I sank to my knees. “No,” I whimpered, the words blurring as I fought to read them again.
Olrus had been burned. He had taken the blame for Vagach’s murder. He’d died protecting me too. Another slash dug into my heart, the pain so acute I was certain it would never end.
What had I done in a past life to deserve this level of loyalty, Reaper? Why does everyone I love have to die, Weaver? What sort of blessing is this unique magic if I can’t save anyone with it, Giver?
“Assyria,” Rokath murmured, dropping to the ground beside me.
Rapp entered the tent a moment later. “What’s wrong?” he asked immediately, coming around and sitting on the bed. The concern in his eyes shattered the last pane of my self control.
“Olrus,” I cried, clutching the parchment to my stomach. “He–he died. Because of me.”
Rokath wrapped his strong hands around my shoulders, and I allowed him to pull me into his lap. Chest heaving, throat working, eyes burning, I couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, for the force of my grief.
“It wasn’t your fault–” Rokath attempted to reassure me, but I cut him off.
“Yes it was!” I gasped, digging the heels of my palms into my eyes and trying to stem the flow of tears. “It should have been me. I should have died for my actions.”
“The Weaver had other plans for you,” Rapp offered, his tone gentle.
“Fuck the Weaver!” I snapped. “Fuck the Giver, fuck the Reaper. Fuck the Fates. Their gifts have all been curses.”
Rokath wrapped himself tighter around me, and I collapsed against his arms, sobs wracking my entire frame.
Rapp joined us on the floor, smoothing my hair and pulling a piece of fabric from somewhere and drying my nose for me. “I know you lost your parents, sister, and the Vezető. Now Olrus. Your grief is overwhelming right now. I see you, Assyria. We’re not going anywhere.”
He kicked Rokath’s shin, jostling us both. “We aren’t,” Rokath promised. “I’ve got you, Assyria.”
“You don’t know that,” I choked out. They didn’t realize the Reaper had cursed me. That was the only explanation as to why this kept happening.
The males spoke around my weeping, but I paid them no attention. I could hear nothing, see nothing, feel nothing, other than sorrow.
I was limp when Rokath rose and the two worked to settle me in bed. Grem and Zeec hopped up a moment later. Zeec nudged my shoulder with his cold nose before licking my face. I didn’t have the energy, the will, to push him away. Grem settled with his head on my thigh while Rokath and Rapp exchanged a few more words.
Then, Rokath tied the flaps and returned to me. The mattress dipped beneath his weight as he laid down beside me, stroking my cheek with the back of his knuckles. He wiped tear after tear away, saying nothing.
Eventually, my breathing evened out, but my eyes remained swollen. My heart shredded into a thousand pieces as reality settled over me. I turned on my side, curling around the dogs. Rokath did the same to me. His hand rested on my stomach, pressing lightly against it as if he were reminding me that I was still here, still alive.
I wanted to turn around and scream at him to get away from me. That by comforting me, he was dooming himself to die. This curse the Reaper surely had placed on me was only going to end in tragedy for him too. For all of the Demons. Allowing myself to linger in his embrace was dangerous because I was so close to falling for him.
The thought hit me like a bolt of lightning. Fear slithered up my spine and another sob wracked my frame.
Yet I couldn’t drag myself away from him. I drank in his heat, greedy for his affection, and shifted closer to him still. His arm tightened, and a sense of safety settled over me—one that had been so absent in my life for so long, I hadn’t thought myself capable of experiencing it again.
“Sleep, Assyria,” Rokath said, the gravel in his voice vibrating against my back. I was beyond exhausted, and careening into oblivion was the only guaranteed way out of this agony.
Rokath couldn’t love me, and I couldn’t love him.
Because everyone I loved, everyone who loved me, always died.
And I couldn’t take it anymore.
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51
Anoise pricked at my ears, drawing me out of the reverie I’d been lulled into on our ride. Days had passed, and yet Olrus still filled my thoughts. Over and over, Rokath had attempted to console me, to reassure me that everything would be okay. I only shoved him away. At least now, some of that iciness had returned to him. It would ensure his survival, even if it meant my heart continued to shatter.
Blinking, I sharpened my focus on the land ahead. We were still within the canyon’s belly, wider than ever before but just as high on the striated sides. Something moved in the distance, far enough away that I knew it wouldn’t be the small game I’d been spotting as Rokath taught me how to scout for danger. A few battalions of riders had departed before we did, and it seemed like we’d nearly caught up to them.
“Is that–”
“The front,” Rokath growled, and then I understood what that noise was.
Screams. Anguished screams. Dying screams.
The hairs on my arms rose as another volley of them echoed down the canyon.
“We’re still a day away from it,” he told me, so casually that I whipped my head to the side and gaped at him.
“Isn’t that kind of a big deal?” I asked, a waver in my voice.
He pulled back on his mount’s reins, halting him. I did the same with Blaeze. Grem and Zeec trotted forward and sniffed before returning to us, plopping on the ground and panting. “Yes, which is why we must shift our forces around now.”
Clopping hooves drew my attention, and Rapp appeared from behind the closest supply wagon a moment later. By the grim determination on his face, I gathered that he knew of this plan already. Clearly, no one trusted me with this information, and I was kept in the dark yet again, merely a decoration who was supposed to do as she was told when she was told.
Shading his face, Rapp stared down the canyon too. His tongue worked over the ring in his lip, and then he turned his attention to Rokath. “Left or right?”
“Left,” Rokath replied. Rapp nodded.
“Left or right, what?” I asked, attention bouncing between the two of them.
“We’re splitting up,” Rapp stated, swinging a leg over his mount and dropping to the ground.
“Wait what? How?” I frowned, trying to understand what the two were talking about.
Rapp handed me his reins without a word, and I tracked his movement until he disappeared around the soldiers behind us. More noise filled the air around us as orders rang out.
I slashed my attention to Rokath, who had also dismounted and appeared ready to command his army. “Ro–” I started but corrected myself. “Halálhívó–”
“Now is not the time for your questions,” he growled. “Stay here until I return for you.”
I glanced ahead, at where the battle raged in the distance. “Really? Here?” I huffed. Sure, Rokath had been teaching me how to fight, but if the line broke and we were suddenly overwhelmed, I’d be defenseless, which was what he didn’t want.
“Assyria,” he snapped, drawing my attention back to him.
I offered it to him with narrowed eyes. His were barely visible through his ebony horned helmet, but the riotous fire in them was unmistakable. “I need to focus on moving everyone and everything to the top of the ridge. Your complaining and questioning will not help that.”
An annoyed noise slipped past my lips before I could stop it. Rokath shot me a warning look, then disappeared along with Rapp, leaving me to watch over three horses and two dogs. That was all I was useful for, I supposed.
Waiting. Watching. Doing nothing.
Rather than remain in the saddle, I hopped down and led my pack toward the rough stone walls. A few scraggly bushes clung to the bottom, and I secured the leather reins to a branch, though I didn’t suspect the horses would venture far. They were all well trained for their tasks. Grem and Zeec sought the shade immediately, and I settled between them, knees tucked up toward my chest and head resting on my crossed arms atop them.
Stupid fucking males.
Rokath and I had been crafting some sort of armistice in our hatred of one another. I knew much of my negative attitude was born from yet another loss in my life, but I couldn’t be bothered to rein in my emotions. Rokath had absorbed my harsh words without so much as a blink, though with each spit of venom, that softness that had appeared in his eyes bled away. My plan to keep him at arm’s length was working because the animosity had returned in full force.
I hated to admit that it carved another slash into my tattered heart. Why had I been foolish enough to believe that the Reaper might not have cursed me after all? That by opening myself up to Rokath, he wouldn’t die?
Stewing on my shitty situation yet again, I watched as males gathered armfuls of supplies and unfurled their dark wings. Shooting into the sky like dark stars, they scaled the high walls and disappeared over the edge. At the rate they were going, this venture would take the entire day. A few with eyes in the darker shades of red used their magic to ferry heavier burdens upward, but since Rokath had sent the most powerful conscripts off to Fured for additional training, no one had enough to make massive differences.
The Parancsok and Százados that remained all had those darker eyes, but I didn’t see a single one helping their charges move the items. Instead, they were busy coordinating movements, bent over parchments, shouting and pointing.
I scoffed, then uncurled myself and buried my fingers in Grem’s dusty black fur. “Can you believe these males? So inefficient. They’re taking everything out of the wagons and leaving them behind when they could just move them to the top.”
He groaned and stretched his legs with a little tremble. “I know, right? It’s a good thing you are a dog. But you’re way smarter than them, aren’t you boy?” I cooed, moving to scratch behind his ears. Zeec, not to be left out, shuffled closer, nudging me with his snout. “Oh yes, you are too, Zeec,” I told him, and he huffed a contented sigh as I massaged his pointed ear.
Glancing up at the sun, I tried to gauge the time. The shadows blocking us from its harsh rays shrunk by the second, which meant we were closing in on prayer time. But by the looks of the males, we’d be skipping today.
Did they break to pray on the battlefield?
An image of the Angel and Demon armies tossing their weapons to the side and dropping to their knees to pray at the peak of the sun entered my mind, and I had to smother a laugh. It was a ridiculous notion when each side fought for every inch of ground, and somehow I got the sense that even if the Angels wanted to pause to pray to the Goddess, Rokath would take advantage of the situation.
He wasn’t a male of honor, of that I was absolutely certain.
As if my thoughts had summoned my mate, he appeared among the throng, towering over a Százados and gesticulating wildly. He ruled the army with a healthy dose of both respect and fear, and the male barely shrank under his wrath, merely nodding and bearing the brunt of what Rokath offered.
Flashes of him punishing the male who had led me pass entered my mind and caused my core to clench. I hated that the way he intimidated others, his ruthless nature, made me desire him more.
The mighty Halálhívó stomped away. The male shouted at a few others to join him, and then shadows swirled around them, snaking under the unhitched wagon and wobbling it off the ground. About halfway up the sheer canyon wall, it teetered dangerously to one side. The Százados yelled at one of his squad members, who poured more magic into the dropping side.
I shot to my feet, already calling upon the shadows in my chest. “Stay,” I told the hounds.
Jogging forward, I lifted both arms and shot magic beneath the rear, leveling it out. Five heads whipped around, gaping as I approached. I took my place beside the Százados. “Are we going to move this thing or not?” I snapped, realizing a moment later I sounded just like Rokath.
“Yes, uh–”
“Don’t bother with pleasantries, just push,” I huffed, twisting and raising my arms further. Still sounded exactly like Rokath.
More inkiness poured from the five, and within two breaths, the wagon rested atop the ridge. I turned to the Százados. “I’m assuming one of you needs to go up there and finish the task?”
“Aye, and thank you for your assistance,” he replied, studying my burgundy eyes. To be fair, I was not often seen by most of the army. Though the whispers had died down for the most part, the knowledge of a female among them was at the forefront of too many minds. I was risking Rokath’s wrath for helping, but fuck it, he was going to be an asshole regardless. Might as well make use of my powers, given that I was one of three in the current group with them. Besides, I wouldn’t be on the battlefield with these males, and whatever they could conserve for their fight would benefit them.
“See to it,” I ordered, then prowled along the line, searching for the next struggling group. Again, I contributed my shadows to helping lift heavy objects, horses, anything that I could. Males soared upward on either side of the canyon as they split off into their new groups. I glanced back at the hounds and the horses, finding them exactly where I left them. They were distant now, after how many males I’d helped, but I decided I could continue a bit further, especially since there was no sign of Rapp or Rokath.
As I turned toward the next group, a familiar voice caught my attention. A bulky, muscular frame and cherry eyes boasted a shit-eating grin as he teased a group of males into pushing a horse to the ridge.
Excitement bloomed in my chest, and I raced forward, calling his name. “Dromak!” He’d only seen me once in my Assyria form, but I hoped he would remember me. He slid his attention from the males to me, and he paled immediately.
I paused mid-stride a dozen paces away from him, something heavy settling in my stomach. “Do you need help?” I asked tentatively. We’d been friends once. But maybe that was only because I was male.
Dromak looked around, searching for something. Then he beckoned me forward with a wave of his hand. I closed the distance and he dropped his head, speaking in a low volume. “I can’t be seen speaking with you. Jaku gave me strict orders to stay away after the whole…incident.”
Tears pricked my eyes, and I nodded. Of course, Rokath would have been vehement about that. I was, after all, supposedly his personal fallen because of that incident. No one needed a reminder of it or what actually took place. The H’s carved into my wrists burned with renewed hatred, along with my heart, and I wished that I hadn’t ruined the long sleeved leather armor in my failed escape attempt so I could hide them.
Dromak saw them anyway, and something that looked a lot like pity filled his eyes. “I truly am sorry, Assyria. For everything. Maybe when this is all over…”
“Yes,” I said quickly, fighting the urge to dash my watery eyes. “A blessing from the Giver it will be soon.”
“Aye. Go on and help some others. I’ve got this under control,” Dromak said gently. Then, he returned to his merciless banter with his unit. The dismissal was clear, and I moved on, ducking my head and wiping my nose on the end of the scarf draped around my head and shoulders.
The next few wagons I moved, I did so in silence, barely bothering to acknowledge those I was helping. On and on I went, pouring my pain into the shadows, giving Rokath something he could never give me.
“Assyria!” Rokath barked, and I lifted my head, glaring at my mate. The day had fully renewed my hatred of him, and it seemed that the feeling was mutual. Dutifully, I had waited for him exactly where he’d left me once I decided I needed to rest. I still had myself and five animals to move to the top, after all, though I had no clue which side we were to go on. Rokath kept all his plans from me, and apparently Rapp had hidden a great deal too.
I was hot, tired, thirsty, and angry with both of them.
“What?” I snapped back, not bothering to rise.
“There you are,” he groused, rubbing his temples. “It’s time for us to go.”
Bracing a hand on the rough rock behind me, I rose. “Which side?”
Rokath tipped his head back, looking straight up. “There.”
I lifted a brow. “And I’m going with you? Not Rapp?”
“Obviously,” Rokath grumbled, shadows so dark they were difficult to differentiate from his armor working themselves into a frenzy.
I rolled my eyes. “I thought after our interactions the last few days you’d send me off with Rapp.”
“Have I not been training you at night?” he growled, taking what he thought was a menacing step forward. I wasn’t afraid of him and he couldn’t intimidate me.
“Just because you are training me does mean you are enjoying it,” I snarled, calling on my own magic. Black, membranous wings snapped from my back, and I flexed them, having to stretch them a bit since I hadn’t used them in a while. I wrapped the dark tendrils gingerly around Grem and Zeec, lifting them off the ground. Blaeze, too, floated up in time with me.
With one last spiteful glare, I shot into the sky with my animals, leaving Rokath and the two horses on the ground. Now that I knew something I could at least get out of his way, since I was such an annoyance.
“Do not run from me,” Rokath rumbled in my mind.
“I’m flying, actually,” I shot back. The veins of color flashed by me as we rose faster and faster, trying to get away from him. We burst over the edge, startling those still repacking wagons and reorganizing themselves. With more consideration than I’d ever give Rokath again, I placed the hounds on the ground, then Blaeze on his feet. The stallion tossed his mane like he was trying to shake off the feeling of flying through the air.
A heartbeat later, a heavy thud shook the earth behind me. I didn’t have to turn to know it was Rokath. Our fucking mate bond told me.
Grabbing Blaeze’s reins, I strode forward, whistling for the dogs to follow. But Rokath whistled too, and they halted, first looking at me and then Rokath. “Grem, Zeec,” Rokath snapped at them, and they started to move in his direction.
“Stay,” I told them, and once again they paused. Confusion played out in the flicks of their ears.
I whirled on my mate. “Are we really going to play out our issues with the dogs?”
“Now is not the time.”
“It’s never the time!”
“The entire army is watching.”
“Let them. Or are you too scared they’ll lose respect for you, stop fearing you, because of me?”
