Текст книги "Horns of Wicked Ebony"

Автор книги: Lacey Lehotzky

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Текущая страница: 21 (всего у книги 43 страниц)

She nodded around my hand. I drove the heel of my palm into her clit and curled my fingers against her walls. We still hovered in the air, a precarious drop below us, and yet Assyria made no protest about her position.

The absolute trust she placed in me healed a fractured piece of my soul.

After the conversations with Xannirin, how the Angels had kidnapped her, how an assassin had come for her, it was exactly what I needed. How she always knew that, always sensed that, was beyond me, but I was so fucking glad for it.

Angling my hand, I dipped deeper, ground harder, into my mate. More wetness gushed over my palm as I stroked the spot she loved the most. The sound of her slickness was louder than the beat of my wings through the air.

Again I dragged the sharp points of my teeth along her wing, eliciting a shiver. Pebbles broke out across her skin as I licked along the length of her neck. “Oh, don’t stop,” she moaned. “I didn’t know it could even be like this.”

I fucked her harder with my hand. “I can’t wait to show you every single way it’s possible for you to feel pleasure. We have millenia more to explore every dark desire.”

“Please,” she begged, my fingers working faster. “Please, Rokath, more.”

A long, low groan ripped through me. “I love when you beg. Come for me like this, and then I’ll make you see new worlds with my cock.”

“Okay,” she rasped, tipping her head back and giving me better access to her neck.

“That’s my good mate,” I praised, kissing along its length. When I got to the point where her pulse fluttered, I bit. Her walls clenched around me. I licked the spot to soothe the ache.

“Rokath, oh I’m going to⁠—”

The cry that fled her lips was better than any sound an Angel had made as I slaughtered them.

Her body trembled. She surrendered further to my hold. The inviolable faith she offered me filled me with primal delight. My dick strained against her backside as she worked through the aftershocks of her orgasm. As she came down, so too did I lower us. I laid her out on the blanket again like my own personal feast.

Fisting myself, I spread my own arousal along my length—not that I needed it. Assyria sat up on her elbows and dropped her knees to the side, showing me exactly what I’d done to her. Her release slicked her thighs, glistening in the sun. I swiped two fingers through it and sucked them into my mouth. I did it again and shoved them into Assyria’s next. Dragging her lips open again, I positioned myself to enter her cunt. The bottom row of her teeth dug into my fingers, and yet she let me hold her there too.

“I am going to take you, hard, because fuck, you are perfection and I cannot wait any longer to feel you come undone around my cock,” I told her. Her eyes darkened, and she gave a small nod—as much of one as my grip on her would allow.

I guided her leg open wider, and then, I thrust.

Wetness gushed between us as I slid all the way to the hilt. I adjusted her leg higher, using it to hold her in place while I pounded into her over and over. Her breasts bounced, her nipples like the sharp peaks surrounding Uzhhorod. Sweat broke out along both our skin as the heat of the sun beat down on us.

And still, we did not break eye contact. Burgundy locked with burgundy, soul bound to soul, we were one, we were whole, we were immortal. “My perfect mate,” I relayed down our mental connection.

She didn’t need to say anything back for me to know she felt the same. The bond thrummed with the force of our adoration, stronger than any metal we could forge for war. Stronger than the stones that held the mountains across the spine of our continent. Stronger than any belief could ever be.

Because we were certain. In this world and in all the rest.

I quickened my pace, my dick aching with how much I fucking craved Assyria. She arched her back, pressing into me as much as I pressed into her. “That’s it, little imposter. Show me how much you love my cock.”

Her eyes fluttered as I hit the spot deep inside that sent her walls clenching around me. Drool spilled out of both sides of her mouth, and her jaw hung open in a silent scream as she closed in on her release. “You’re going to come so fucking hard for me, aren’t you?”

She barely managed to nod, her fingers scrambling for purchase on the blanket beneath us. I removed mine from her mouth, then gripped either side of her jaw to hold it open. She gasped, half-lidded eyes snapping open.

“Stick out your tongue,” I commanded her.

She did immediately, curiosity and anguish tumbling down our bond as I slowed my pace. A smirk curved my lips. I had her right where I wanted her.

So I spit.

Her core gripped me like a vise, making stars dot my vision. Our mouths battled as I crashed my lips against hers, desperate to taste her. I fucked hard into her again, tearing a whimper from her throat.

“Rokath,” she panted, breaking our kiss. Her nails clawed my back, leaving stinging gouges as sweat spilled across them. “Fuck, do that again.”

I hit that deep spot and stilled, circling my hips. “Did you like that, Assyria?” I murmured darkly in her ear. She shivered beneath me.

“Yes,” she admitted, rolling her lower back so her clit brushed against my stomach.

I hiked her legs to my shoulders, pinning her firmly against the ground. The angle gave me the perfect opportunity to do exactly as she asked. “Open for me.”

She did, and I grabbed her jaw and spit again. I didn’t let go as I picked up a relentless pace, ecstasy crashing down our bond like the waves did against the shores of the island.

Her eyes fluttered again, those dark lashes fanning against her cheekbones. “Oh, I think I’m–” she started, but a raw scream cut her off. Pleasure shattered through her, and her walls clenched my cock so tight she yanked me right into ecstasy with her.

My balls tightened, and I was done, coming inside her for the first time. I couldn’t have pulled out if I wanted to from the force of our combined orgasm. We floated together, higher than the birds over the seas. Still moving. Still panting. Still one.

We remained locked as we floated down. I curved down and kissed her again, first on the lips, then on the forehead. Her racing heart beat against mine. I brushed sweaty strands of hair out of her face, drinking in the rosy flush of her skin. Leaning back, I eased her legs off my chest, massaging them gently after straining her into the difficult position. “Thank you.”

“For what?” she murmured back, her expression serene.

“For trusting me to take care of you.”

“You always will,” she said, her tone soft and filled with adoration. She reached for my forearm and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

Dragging in a breath, I dove into my magic and called my wings back. Then I hooked my arms under her waist and hoisted her off the ground. With a groan, I slid out of her at last, wetness gushing from between us and dripping onto the blanket. She laughed and shook her head. “Guess you’ll be needing a new one of those.”

“Fuck it,” I said, and in a few wingbeats, we were airborne and headed to the spot on the beach that was safe enough to swim.

The plush sand sank between my toes as we landed. Assyria wiggled hers in it when I set her down. Hand in hand, we made our way to the water. “This might be a little cold.”

A small, shocked laugh escaped her as the tide lapped at our legs. She offered me a sheepish grin. “It’s pretty cold.”

“Then I’ll hold you close,” I murmured, tugging her against my chest. She hissed again, but soon she relaxed into me as we waded deeper.

We didn’t have to go far for the water to be up to Assyria’s waist. Gently, I reached between her thighs, and she sucked in a sharp breath. “What are you doing?”

“Washing you?” I questioned, like it wasn’t obvious.

“Oh, I thought you were doing something else,” she giggled, looking up at me.

“Well, I will be touching you there,” I grumbled, beginning to wipe away what clung to her thighs. “But not for that reason. I came inside you, and I don’t want you to fear falling pregnant when I know that’s not something you want.”

Tears welled in her eyes, and she blinked rapidly to clear them. “You remembered that?”

“Of course I did,” I told her, opening her so I could wash the remnants of me away. “That’s why I’ve never come inside you before. I wanted to respect your wishes, not to force something else on you that you didn’t want.”

“I thought it was because you also didn’t want them,” she said, her voice raspy. Her throat worked, drawing my attention.

“That was part of it. But that was not the main reason.” I spun her, then dropped lower in the water to ensure that I cleaned her out as much as I could for the time being. “When we return, I have something else I can give you too.”

“Thank you,” she whispered, cupping my face and running her thumbs over my beard.

A wave came in, crashing against us, and she fell into my arms. I kissed her again, long, languid, like we had all the time in the world. When we finally broke apart, I asked her, “Do you want to eat or swim?”

“Swim,” she pronounced immediately, ducking out of my grip. In a flash, she disappeared beneath the water, coming up soaked. Pebbles dotted her skin as she surfaced again, but she sported a wide, unguarded smile. “Now that that’s over with, let’s go.”

Before I could say anything, she dove, splashing as she broke through an oncoming wave. I shook my head and followed.

Our bond would always lead me straight to her, but I never wanted her to be more than a dozen paces from my side again.

As our time on the island drew to a close, I packed up our belongings, ruined blanket and all, and we flew back to the military academy close enough that the edges of our wings brushed. We landed with ease on the roof of my tower, descending the stairs in a post bliss haze. But when I opened the secret door, I stopped dead in my tracks, dread filling my chest.

Because Kiira sat on one of the leather couches, head in her hands.

Sobbing.

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31

“Kiira, what’s wrong?” Assyria asked, squeezing by me and racing to my cousin’s side. I dropped the basket and blanket on a nearby table, studying the females with sharp, coiled focus.

She sniffed and dried her eyes on her sleeves, looking between us both. “I came as soon as I could.”

“Is it Rapp?” I asked, immediately thinking the worst. He’d been doing so much better…

“Fates, no,” she shook her head forcefully. The vise around my chest loosened immediately. “Actually, he would have come with me had he been able to make the climb.”

I approached slowly, easing my weight onto the seat opposite hers. “Then what is this about? The assassination attempt? Has Xannirin done something?” Those were the only other logical explanations for her level of distress.

Her lower lip trembled, and Assyria threw her arms around Kiira, holding her close. My cousin leaned her head on Assyria’s shoulder, soaking in the comfort my mate offered her. “The Fates offered me another prophecy.”

My blood turned to ice. Assyria went utterly still, save for her attention snapping to me like she was searching for some sort of reassurance. “What happened?” My tone was flat, emotionless, as I braced for the inevitable bad news.

Kiira swallowed hard, straightening. “It’s nothing to worry about. Well, unless…”

“Unless what?” I prodded, heart hammering against my ribs. Kiira needed to speak, right fucking then.

“Unless they are unreliable now,” she said, her voice barely more than a whisper.

“I’m sure that’s not true,” Assyria tried to soothe her, but Kiira shook her head.

“I saw you,” she said to my mate. “For the first time, so clearly. I wanted to be sure before I told anyone…”

“When did you have this vision, Kiira?” I asked, neck growing hot. Before, Kiira had only had glimpses of my mate. The images she’d drawn of Assyria’s eyes flashed through my mind, seared there as they had been from the moment I’d gripped one in my hand.

“Before we left Uzhhorod,” she admitted quietly, looking down at her ringed hands.

“It’s been over a week since you arrived. Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” I growled.

Assyria pierced me with a sharp look, squeezing Kiira tighter. “Can’t you see she’s upset?” she snapped down our bond. “Maybe be a little nicer and let her speak.”

I grumbled but stood down.

“So what did you see of me?” Assyria asked, her tone soft and guiding.

Kiira lifted her gaze to meet mine as if she were pleading with me to understand. “The first glimpse I had of you winning, Rokath, you carried Zaph and Ishim’s heads through the streets of Sivy. Now, though, Assyria is by your side when it happens. And you’re carrying Koron Stadiel’s head.”

All air fled my lungs. For a moment, all I could do was blink. “What? The outcome completely changed?”

Kiira’s teeth dug into her bottom lip. “Yes.”

“I’m confused. Is that not how Sight works?” Assyria clarified, brows dipping together.

“When Kiira receives one, they always come to pass in exactly that way. She’s never had a repeated one, or one that changes later. Unless I’m mistaken?” I offered my cousin a chance to clarify.

She shook her head. “Never until now.”

“When exactly did you have this vision?” I repeated the question, wondering if she’d seen it before or after Assyria’s kidnapping. If she’d seen it before…

“About a week before I received your letter.”

The snake crushing my chest eased. I hadn’t realized just how tense I’d become over the thought that I could have acted differently, slaughtered Zaph in that moment instead of allowing him to butcher my army.

“So after Rokath chose me over the soldiers,” Assyria murmured, her mind walking along the same path as mine.

“If that is the timing, then I think it was a test for you, Rokath,” Kiira said, finally emerging from her slumped, defeated posture. “The Fates rarely weave a fork in our paths. Determining which direction to take might incur a cost—or gift—we can’t foresee. To me, it seems that by choosing Assyria, you changed the future of your victory.”

I didn’t know whether to feel relief or dread. To know that even an innocuous choice could carry a massive consequence curled unease in my gut. Would Kiira’s new prophecy alter the timing of our victory too? Extend our war into years to come or shorten it to our next assault?

Yet one thing was certain: if I ever saw Zaph again, I would not have to hold back. He would fucking die, slowly, painfully, excruciatingly, and I’d savor the entire experience.

“What else is there?” Assyria asked.

I blinked, tearing myself away from my riot of thoughts.

My cousin offered her a sad half-smile. “A great sacrifice will have to be made.”

I opened my mouth to speak, but Kiira held up a hand. “I know nothing of what the sacrifice is. In my vision, I was watching you approach, Assyria by your side, and an army of males and females was at your back. Rapp and Xannirin were there too. But one word rang out loud and clear, over and over and over.”

“Sacrifice,” Assyria murmured.

Ice slithered down my spine at the word.

Kiira exhaled, shaky and slow. “I had this immense chill, like I was standing atop the glaciers in the Skala Mountains, despite being in the heart of the Eső Forest. It was one of the most vivid visions I’ve ever had, if not the most vivid.”

“And it came with far more clarity than the others you had of Assyria?” I questioned. I had to be clear in my understanding. It was the only way to protect the Demons.

“To this day, I don’t remember the drawings or anything else you spoke of about her. When I try to think about it, all I see are glimpses of her eyes,” Kiira said, attention dancing over my mate with overt interest.

“Maybe that’s because when I left Stryi, I was using my magic all hours of the day?” she suggested. Absently, she twisted her mother’s ring around her finger.

Kiira lifted a shoulder and let it drop. “Perhaps. We’ll never know for certain.”

Frustration clawed up my spine, and I curled my fingers into a fist, the bite of pain grounding me. “How will we know anything for certain now that we know your visions can change?”

Silence stretched between us for a long moment as Kiira weighed my words. My cousin tugged on the ends of her hair, running her fingers along the dark length as she so often did when she was deep in thought.

“Look for major turning points and think them through carefully,” Kiira offered finally. “If the Fates are truly testing us, perhaps they need to know we can make good decisions on our own without their interference.”

“What if they never predetermined our paths in the first place?” Assyria challenged, embers burning in her eyes. “What if life is always a series of choices, and so far, the three of you have always made the one that leads you to the visions you had?”

She had a point. We may have purported ourselves as Gods, but no one truly knew the workings of our deities. That was where the power of belief entered, and that power was one we’d endlessly exploited to serve our needs in shaping society. After all, if the populace believed it to be true, if we had the claws of fear sunk deep into their hearts, they were like sheep—easy to herd in whichever direction we wanted.

“After all, no matter how much we pray and spill our blood, bad things still happen to us.” Assyria uncrossed her arms and leaned forward. “We can say it’s the Reaper cursing us, but for what? Why would they choose to have their faithful suffer?”

“These are all questions many have struggled with for a long time,” Kiira told her, reaching out and taking her hands. “So it is okay if you still harbor them. Explore them and find meaning in your suffering. It is what I had to do in my position.”

The sight twisted something in my chest—something soft and rare that felt a lot like what a family should be.

“Have you told anyone else about this yet?” I asked her, redirecting the conversation to the matter at hand.

“Only Rapp. He was the one who encouraged me to tell you both right away,” she sighed, looking at her hands once again. She fiddled with a diamond band, the stones dancing in the sunlight.

At least she hadn’t told Xannirin before anyone else. He could have used it as leverage. I suspected that was why she hadn’t, given that as much as we’d spoken, he still hadn’t acquiesced to the bare minimum of allowing females into the army.

“It’s time we force Xannirin to listen. To concede to what is right,” I growled, my fingers flexing at my sides. “He has questions to answer. Accountability to take. And I’m fucking tired of his games.”

“Do you think he was behind the assassin?” Kiira asked, sucking in a sharp breath.

“I can’t deny that he has some motive. And his behavior has been suspicious since then. Since arriving, really. But with new information, we can’t wait for him to stop being such a prick. We need to confront him.”

Kiira pressed her lips together but nodded. “The four of us. Assyria needs to be there too.”

My mate wrapped her arms around my cousin. “Thank you.”

Kiira hugged her back. “It is what is right. You have been elevated to our status. You deserve your place among us.”

“Then it’s decided. Tomorrow, we will break down his door if he won’t let us in. We’ll do whatever it takes to learn the truth behind the assassination attempt, to bend him to the future,” I pronounced. Yet even as determination heated my veins, doubt crept in. What would happen if Xannirin dug in his heels? What would I have to do if he was the one who tried to kill my mate?

I’d never feared wielding authority. Leading the army was what I had been born to do. But ruling? Being the Kral? I wanted nothing less.

So when Kiira finally departed, Assyria looped her arms around my torso and squeezed hard. But as I held Assyria close, a word from Kiira’s vision echoed through me.

Sacrifice.

And I couldn’t help but wonder which one of us the Fates would choose.

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32

“Open the fucking door,” Rokath growled, slamming his fist against the heavy wood. Behind me, Kiira shifted from foot to foot. The Kral’s Guard had taken one look at Rokath’s furious expression and wisely positioned themselves on the floor below us, out of the way of his wrath.

Still, Xannirin did not answer. Not so much as a sound drifted beneath the door. “I know you are in there. You have three seconds to let us in before I shatter this wood.”

Rokath never made idle threats.

“One,” he started counting like Xannirin was a fucking child.

Which, currently, he was acting like a very spoiled one.

“Two,” Rokath pronounced, his tone threaded with violence. Before he opened his mouth to utter three, the door flew open, exposing the Kral of the Demons.

Dressed in a smart tunic and pants, rings glinting on his fingers, he sneered at us. “What do you want?”

The utter exasperation in his tone very much matched the one I wanted to express with him. Rokath didn’t respond, merely shouldered past his cousin, leaving space for Kiira and I to enter in his wake. I didn’t apologize as I accidentally jostled his torso as I passed.

Kiira, unfortunately, appeared more apologetic.

“What is the meaning of this?” Xannirin asked, slamming the door shut and spinning on my mate.

“You haven’t been available for days,” Rokath stated, leaning against the window and crossing his arms over his broad chest. Kiira and I took a seat on a plush couch between the two males.

I honestly couldn’t understand Xannirin’s open hostility. I regarded him warily as he took a step closer to Rokath. The tiny garnet on my ring grounded me amid the tempest brewing in the room as I fiddled with it.

No one spoke. Heated glances volleyed back and forth.

Who would be the first to crack?

“First, I have one question for you, Xannirin,” Rokath said, each word spoken slowly as if he were attempting to convey the seriousness of what would follow.

The Kral raised a skeptical brow. His hair was tied neatly back, not a single strand out of place. His beard appeared recently sheared, revealing his carved jaw. It was as if he wanted to show the world how put together he was when everything else was falling apart around him.

“What is that?” he drawled as if he were bored with our appearance.

Rokath paused, and my heart raced against my ribs. Every muscle in my body tensed, even as I leaned forward ever so slightly, waiting for him to speak. Kiira did too.

“Did you hire someone to kill Assyria and Kiira?”

The question cracked the air like a stone through stained glass.

Xannirin didn’t even blink. Didn’t even hesitate to reply. His expression remained perfectly placid. “No.”

“Let me rephrase.” Darkness stained Rokath’s expression as he glared at his cousin. “Did you arrange for, in any way, someone to attack Assyria?”

The Kral’s attention flicked to Kiira for the span of a heartbeat before returning to my mate. “No.”

Rokath’s fingers dug into his biceps. “Then why don’t I believe you?”

“That is your problem, not mine,” Xannirin shot back, his shoulders rising.

“You would lie to us? After everything?” Kiira snapped, surging to her feet.

Xannirin’s countenance softened as he faced her. “I would never lie to you.”

“But you would to Rokath?” she challenged, undeterred by the smooth way he crafted his words.

A muscle feathered in his jaw, and he took a step toward her. “Kiira…”

Rage engulfed our bond in a fiery inferno. A look of horror crossed Kiira’s face. My brows shot up my forehead.

Clutching her chest, the High Priestess shrank away from her Kral. “No, you don’t get to ‘Kiira’ me. Not now. Speak the truth.”

Rokath shifted off the wall, vibrating with barely-restrained fury. Xannirin sliced his attention to my mate. “There is a group of people who are unhappy that females are among them now. I merely provided them with some useful information.”

A roar shook me to my core as Rokath lunged for his cousin. Ebony exploded from both of them, sending vases crashing to the ground. I leaped to my feet, calling on my own magic, ready to assist my mate.

The onyx cloud cleared for a blink, revealing Xannirin swiping a dagger toward Rokath’s thigh. My mate kicked his hand, sending the blade clattering away. They collided in a tangle of limbs, lost to the void of power again.

“We have to do something, they’re going to kill each other!” I snapped at Kiira.

Shadow unfurled from her hands, and she wielded each thick whip with expert precision. Snapping it into the darkness, she removed some of the smoky air. Rokath had Xannirin on his stomach, and my mate hooked an arm beneath the Kral’s chin. Xannirin’s face ripened to a rich shade of red.

“You can’t kill him!” I screamed, barging forward. If he did, Rokath would become Kral, and he didn’t want that. The idea had shaken him so much that he hadn’t slept at all last night. As much as I wanted retribution for Xannirin’s actions, I didn’t want it to come at my mate’s expense.

With a hard shove, I knocked Rokath and Xannirin over. They broke apart like shards of obsidian thrown against the ground, and I had to leap into the air to clear their jagged strikes. Yet neither were deterred from their savage barrage.

“Listen to your mate!” Kiira shouted at Rokath, magic spooling around her and forcing back her cousins’ powers.

But both males were too far gone in their fury to hear us. Diving into the well of magic in my chest, I yanked with all my might on our bond. Still, they fought, blood flying as they exchanged bone-jarring blows.

With a snarl, Rokath punched Xannirin in the gut, bowing his frame. He stumbled back, doubled over and wheezing. My mate wasted no time in taking him to the ground. Their collision quaked the floor, and I pitched to the side, managing to catch myself on a cracked wooden side table.

A bronze blade flashed as Rokath drew it overhead. “Stop!” I screamed, one last desperate attempt to change his fate.

But he drove it down.

“I was raped by Ollmund Varrir!” Kiira yelled. Her voice fractured on her attacker’s name.

Rokath halted with the dagger mere inches from Xannirin’s neck. The air in the room froze over. Neither male breathed as they gaped at their cousin.

“What did you say?” Rokath whispered, and that was far more terrifying than any growl or snarl I’d ever received from him.

I whipped my head to her, watching as her face crumpled.

“Ollmund Varrir raped me.”

I ached to go to her, to comfort her once again. Yet I didn’t dare move with the males still on the precipice of violence.

The blade clattered against the stone as Rokath’s hand slackened. His haunted expression seared into my memory as he rose off Xannirin, his attention wholly on Kiira. The Kral looked as horror-struck as his cousin. That hateful, disdainful sneer completely melted and was replaced by something shattered. He stumbled to his feet, wiping his bloody face on his tunic.

“When?” Rokath gritted out.

This time, I did move toward Kiira, wrapping my arms around her and holding her tight. I’d protect her, even if these two idiots didn’t.

“He came to Varbad not long after you left, attempting to influence me to secure Orith a match with you, since it is known that I have sway over you, Rokath. When I told him no–” She shuddered, and I kept my grip, letting her know I was there. That he wasn’t moments from touching her again. “He put something in my wine while we were speaking. I didn’t even notice.”

“He’s a corpse the moment I lay eyes on him again,” Rokath snarled, grief and rage scorching down our bond. “I have half a mind to return to Uzhhorod this very minute and flay the skin from his bones.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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