15
After we crossed the Vago River, more and more people appeared along the main road. With the size of our traveling party, most veered off to the side to pass us. Yet none of them slowed their fast pace south.
A brilliant sun beat down through a cloudless sky, and sweat slicked my torso within an hour of our departure. Izgath and I rode side by side at the rear of the group, ensuring the supply wagons trundled along smoothly. While Izgath hadn’t revealed my identity to anyone, he hovered closer than ever before.
A group of riders trotted through the scrubby bush that lined either side of the dirt road, likely returning from the capital to one of the cities in Vagach’s vidék. When they passed, Izgath pulled on his reins and slowed his mount. I mimicked him, and within a minute, we were largely out of earshot of the other soldiers.
“Tell me about you, Assyria,”
he said, and Fates how I wished he would keep saying my name like that.
“Well, I grew up on a farm outside Stryi,”
I began, trying to think of interesting facts about myself. “I had a younger sister and she perished in the plague alongside my parents.”
A knot formed in my throat at the thought of my dead family. “After I married Vagach, I started gardening to pass the time. My favorite flowers are roses, and Vagach bought me rare varieties from the Angel Realm.”
Izgath bared his teeth at the mention of the Angels but didn’t interrupt.
“I was so proud of them when they began to flourish in the garden. I spent every second I could outside with them, tending to them, singing to them, reading to them. Each had a unique life, unique pattern, and unique needs. Finding the right balance for each brought me so much joy. Until…”
I trailed off as a memory of the first time Vagach struck me surfaced. After that, I struggled to look at my plants without thinking of his abuse. Ice slithered down my spine before I reminded myself where I was. Closing my eyes for a brief moment, I tipped my face to the sun and allowed the light to banish the dark thoughts.
With a sigh, I continued, “The Bordova variety is my favorite. The blooms are round and lush, and the fragrance is divine. Only a few together will fill your nostrils for hours. And the color.”
I swooned in my saddle. “Such rich hues. Something just beyond white but not quite blush, a vibrant pink, and then this deep burgundy that I had to talk myself out of cutting and putting in a vase inside so I could look at it all the time.”
“Like your eyes?”
Izgath teased, offering a playful grin.
My cheeks heated, and I ducked my head. “They were a similar color, yes.”
“It is strange hearing you gush about flowers in a male form,”
he laughed.
More blush crept to my face. I’d inadvertently gotten passionate about my roses and talked far too much. As if Izgath sensed the direction of my thoughts, he said, “You aren’t boring me. I am fascinated actually. I only wish I could see your face light up, Assyria.”
The way the last sentence spilled from his lips made me want to drop my magic and allow him to see all of me. Whether it was his smooth way of talking, my sinful attraction to him, or something else, I couldn’t say.
I cleared my throat, wracking my brain for some topic to divert my thoughts. “What about you? Where are you from?”
“Lutsk, in the north. The landscapes are vastly different from around here,”
he explained. “Beyond the capital, there is a massive desert, with the occasional oasis offering a chance for water and food. Lutsk sits in one of those.”
“I’ve never been to the capital. What’s it like?”
I admitted, dropping the reins and shaking out my fingers. Blaeze plodded along dutifully, and my hands thanked me for the reprieve.
Izgath rolled his shoulders to release the tension from them. “The mountains surrounding it are beautiful, with the snow capping them. They looked close enough to touch, but it is at least a day’s ride to reach the base of them. The hilly streets of Uzhhorod are difficult to navigate. How people live on those steep inclines is beyond my comprehension,”
he chuckled, a faraway look resting across his handsome face.
“That’s why the army never goes into the city as a group. Too many hills and too many people getting lost. When we arrive, we’ll camp outside the walls,”
Izgath finished, twisting in the saddle to stretch his spine. My eyes tracked the way his muscles flexed with the movement.
“How many times have you been?”
I questioned, tearing my gaze to his face again.
“Too many to count. I’ve been in the army since the beginning,”
Izgath shrugged, adjusting in the saddle.
“And your brother?”
I asked gently.
“Zurronar, the one who died, joined with me. I have another younger brother who is under the Hadvezér of the winged division. I haven’t seen him in a year or two, but with how far the Angels have beaten us back, I suspect I might find him in Uzhhorod.”
The air around him seemed to dampen, along with his spirits.
Hoping to lighten the mood, I asked, “What about your parents?”
“They’re still in Lutsk, as far as I know. I’ve begged them to leave multiple times now and travel south. My mother refuses to leave her chickens.”
The corner of his mouth twitched up, and he lifted his gaze from the ground. “She has so many fucking chickens.”
The playful irritation in his voice pulled a laugh from me. “What for?”
“At first, they were to eat. But then she got attached to them. Then she got different varieties, and before long, the chickens were nearly sleeping with us at night, much to my father’s dismay,”
Izgath chuckled, looking off to the north like he could see the house beckoning him home.
“She sounds lovely,”
I commented, one of those slashes in my heart twinging. Fates, I missed my mother. Her soft, steady tone. The way she’d scold the goats who headbutted her while she was trying to milk the cows. Her strength of will and how she worked as diligently as my father in the fields. I’d give anything to turn back time, even for a moment, and dig my hands into the earth alongside them.
“The way she talks about her chickens is the way you talk about your roses. I think she’d like you,”
he said, and my stomach fluttered.
“I think I’d like her too.”
A mirror smile stretched across my face, and I wished that this intimate moment could have been shared while I was in my true form.
A shout shattered our moment. “Better catch up,”
I said when I noted the distance between us and the rest. Retrieving my reins, I dug my heels into Blaeze’s side. He shot forward, Izgath’s horse falling in line automatically, and we trotted to the supply wagons. At the front, the group was turning toward the low grass on the side of the road. It was then I noticed no shadows graced the ground beneath us, and I cursed myself for losing track of time.
“Follow them!”
I shouted at those within earshot, directing them off the road.
Hurriedly, I raced to the front and prepared myself to lead the daily prayers after being thrown so wildly out of character talking about myself with Izgath. I left him behind, lest he distract me any more than he already had.
Offering a salute to Jaku, I directed Blaeze to where his, Dromak, and Uzadaan’s horses were already tethered, making quick work of tying him alongside them and pulling the ceremonial knife from my bag. Izgath cantered up behind me, shooting me a quizzical look as he hopped off his horse and tied her alongside ours.
“We should reach Osijek this evening. Gnim and Grex should already be there with their recruits,”
Jaku said when the Vezet? had gathered around him. “We need to buy more supplies to cover the remaining stretch to Uzhhorod. The cooks tell me we’re completely out of bread, potatoes, and other long-storing foods. I need you all to coordinate your units and ensure that they don’t traipse off to the fallen houses.”
“Because if they do, they’ll never be ready to leave at first light in the morning and we need to return to Uzhhorod as quickly as possible,”
Dromak said, altering his voice to mimic Jaku’s.
Our Százados shot him a glare that pulled a chuckle from Uzadaan, Izgath, and me. When he turned his displeasure on us, I pressed my lips together in an attempt to reign in the laughter that wanted to escape. Izgath had no such luck, and another snort escaped him.
“I understand that my impatience to return amuses you, but the sooner we arrive, the sooner everyone can get settled, and the more time we may have to rest and recuperate in place. Those moments may be the difference between life and death.”
We sobered at Jaku’s words. He wasn’t wrong.
I cleared my throat. “Right, I should start the prayers.”
“You should.”
Jaku slid his attention to the gathering soldiers. Many were settling on the ground, hands resting on knees, waiting patiently for the ritual to begin. He stood in front of them, crossing his arms over his chest and assessing them as if they were horses at an auction.
We followed, setting into our respective positions. Eyes in every shade of red stared back at me, waiting expectantly for me to begin. I glanced at Jaku, who obediently dropped to his knees beside me. The stone set into the hilt of his dagger caught the light.
Stepping forward, I raised my own knife in one hand while I braced the other in preparation to slice into the tender skin of my palm.
“We feed the earth our blood as an offering to the Fates.”
After nearly three weeks of doing this, I didn’t even wince when the sharp blade met Vagach’s skin. Blood bloomed along the cut immediately, and I turned my hand to the ground, letting droplets splatter.
“Weaver, who spins the threads of our fates, lay down the path for us to tread, unyielding and unbroken. We walk at your command, our feet bound by the threads you have woven. Guide us to glory as we march beneath the banner of war. For the Kral, for the Halálhívó, we bleed. Bind our fates to theirs, that we may rise victorious.”
“We bleed for the Fates, the Kral, and the Halálhívó,”
the males said, mimicking my offering.
“Giver, bless us with abundant wells of magic so we wield in your name during battle. Let the blood we spill slake your thirst, and let us slaughter those who defy your design. Gift us with the power we need to bring majesty to your name. By our blood, we honor you.”
Sinking to my knees, I prepared to prostrate myself. “Reaper, whose curse falls upon those who stray from the path, let us not taste your wrath. We offer this blood as a pledge of our loyalty. Let your eye wander elsewhere and damn those who question your mighty power. Should we sin, may your curse be swift and unrelenting.”
The group laid our souls bare for the three to judge and deem our worthiness. “Let the Halálhívó’s victory be swift and the Kral’s reign eternal. Our lives, our magic, our essence, are theirs to command.”
“We are theirs to command.”
The vehemence in the response, like every day we marched toward the capital, grew until their fervent belief was nearly a palpable thing.
Straightening, I surveyed the group. Gazes were hard and eyes glittered with excitement. The depth of their devotion to the Fates and the Demon’s cause was no mere passing fancy. They truly believed that the Fates had chosen Kral Xannirin and the Halálhívó to bring us glory.
But did I?
Osijek buzzed with activity when we rolled through its cobbled streets. With our now over two thousand-strong group, we managed to fill most of guesthouses and inns in the city, the owners’ eyes alighting when they learned that Kral Xannirin would reimburse them for all costs incurred if they simply sent a raven with Százados Jaku’s seal attached to the message.
At least the Kral took care of those dying for him.
Jaku was extremely pleased when Gnim and Grex announced how many they’d conscripted from their respective regions, and the other Vezet? and I left the three of them to catch up while we checked on our soldiers.
Strolling through one of the downstairs taverns, I stopped at the tables of those under my command to ensure they wanted for nothing. Ale flowed freely, bellies were filled with better food than we’d had in weeks, and generally, the air was jovial. Dromak, Izgath, and Uzadaan ambushed me as I spilled onto the street with the intention of returning to my accommodation next door.
“So we’re going to the fallen house a few streets over, want to join us?”
Dromak offered me a mischievous grin, while Uzadaan rolled his eyes. I remembered then that Dromak had mentioned an Angel showing him an illusion of a fallen female from this city.
“What about what Jaku said? And your mate?”
I turned to the ruby-eyed Demon.
Uzadaan shook his head. “No, I don’t couple with them. I only watch. Someone has to keep these two under control.”
Izgath shrugged as if he couldn’t help the sensuality that oozed out of his every pore. “I’m an Incubus. What can I say?”
“You don’t have to say anything. You have the perfect excuse,”
Dromak laughed, slapping him on the ass. “Now move it before Jaku finds us.”
“But shouldn’t we set an example?”
I protested, steered against my will down a side street.
“Please, I wouldn’t stop any of the males underneath me if they wanted to get off before getting killed. The Kral and Halálhívó might want us to stay celibate to increase our fighting prowess, but we’re nowhere near a battlefield currently. What’s the harm?”
Dromak swaggered ahead of me, looking like he was ready to cause trouble wherever we went.
Unfortunately for me, I wasn’t sure if I could get an erection in this form. Maybe I could make one with my powers?
For the hundredth time since setting out from Stryi, I cursed myself for smothering this rare gift instead of nurturing it to bloom.
“Besides, Vagach, you’ve been trimming up since we’ve been working you out and you deserve to show that off,”
Dromak added, a twinkle in his cherry eyes.
Oh, no.
“But my wife–”
I protested.
“Isn’t here,”
he finished for me. “You want to ensure your line continues, right?”
I looked between Izgath and Uzadaan, hoping one of them would save me. Uzadaan merely raised his hands as if to say ‘it’s your problem, not mine,’ while Izgath lifted a singular brow as if he were waiting for me to figure out how to save myself. He knew who I truly was, how could he think I was okay with entering a place for fallen females who were undeserving of a husband?
If I had killed any male but a Kormánzó I might have ended up in one myself. These females, based on the threatening stories Priestess Anara told us, were to birth as many Demon babies as they could, regardless of parentage. They were merely kept in these houses for the pleasure of the males, and their children were taken and given to intact families to raise as their own.
We didn’t have establishments like these as far south as Stryi, given our small population, but I remembered one female a few years older than me crying at the priestess’s feet after she coupled with another male outside of her marriage. Her father had sold her to Stryi’s herb merchant the moment she came of age, though he was nearly a millennia older and drank even more than Vagach did. Her husband was so furious that rather than confine her to their home, he wanted her to become one of the fallen instead. After he broke their vows in front of the Fates, Priestess Anara branded her wrists with an F and sent her along with the first traveling merchant returning north.
“Yes, but with my wife,”
I tried to protest again, but it was even weaker than my last attempt.
We turned a corner, spilling onto another thoroughfare. This one was dirtier, seedier, and reeked of stale bodies and ale. Above us, windows stood open, and I glanced up, finding a pair of breasts bouncing out of them. The sound of slapping skin spilled out, along with her moans. I nearly tripped over my own feet trying to tear my attention away.
Dromak smirked, catching on to my horror, then elbowed Izgath. “You’d think a Kormánzó would have visited streets like this before.”
Fuck, Vagach probably had, and I’m giving myself away.
“Of course I’ve been,”
I snorted, trying to weave derision into my voice as I locked my spine and puffed up my chest.
Dromak threw his arm over my shoulder. “Good, then we’ll have so much fun.”
I threw one last pleading look at Izgath before Dromak steered me toward a doorway where a topless female waited. “Four of you?”
she purred, batting long lashes over carmine eyes. A veil didn’t hide the color or the sharpness of her cheekbones.
“Aye,”
Izgath replied, depositing several coins into her upturned palm.
She offered him a slow, sultry smile. “Right this way.”
With a swish of her hips, she spun, the thin fabric woven with chains tinkling as she strode deeper into the establishment. My eyes landed on the small of her back, where the skirt was tied with the barest of strips. Her legs and hips flashed with each step she took, and I swallowed down my rising nervousness.
Pull it together, Assyria!
We entered a semi-private room, the only light offered by half-burned candles scattered over every surface. Scented sticks burned in holders, the smoke lingering in the air and giving it a heady, musky smell. Already, a few males I recognized from Dromak’s charge had their hands wrapped around the backs of their heads, legs splayed wide, while females danced and ground between them.
The way they moved made me want to raise my eyebrows to my hairline. When I noticed how little they wore, I nearly stopped breathing. This was everything that Priestess Anara had threatened us with if we didn’t lie on our backs and hold still while our husbands filled us with their seed.
“I will bring you something to drink momentarily,”
the female leading us purred. We stopped at a set of couches set on either side of a round table. Uzadaan, Izgath, and Dromak settled themselves, and I hurriedly planted myself in the empty spot beside Izgath, praying that one of the two of us would figure out how to get me out of here.
Why didn’t I refuse outside the tavern?
I was out of my depth, and it wouldn’t be long before Uzadaan and Dromak discovered my true identity. Would they keep my secret too? I’d like to think we’d grown close in our time together, and with their lawless behavior in patronizing the fallen house, I had to assume they were willing to break some of the Reaper-given rules.
But would they break them for me?
“Relax, Vagach,”
Dromak chuckled, resting his large arms across the back of the couch, “if you keep that sour look on your face, none of the females will want to join us.”
Dragging in a long breath, I smoothed my expression, relaxing each muscle in an attempt to arrest my racing heart. It didn’t help.
The female returned, glass drinks squeezed tight against her chest. They pushed her breasts higher and together while leaving little droplets on her creamy skin. She placed them on the table, and the moment she finished, Dromak pulled her onto his lap and lapped the liquid off her chest. She giggled and pushed playfully against his arms. With one hand, he directed one of her mauve nipples into his mouth, sucking on the bud. Uzadaan scooted away, then draped his arm in a similar fashion, crossing one leg over the other as he watched Dromak tease the female.
I learned then that I could not get an erection while using my magic, but wetness could still pool between my thighs. Heat bloomed there as I continued to watch with rapt fascination, barely breathing as Dromak switched to her other breast, dragging his teeth over it and sending the female’s head tipping back.
Never in my wildest dreams had I imagined intimacy could be like this, with the female scratching her long nails into Dromak’s scalp and directing him to suck harder.
Izgath startled me when his hot breath fanned across my ear. “I take it that Vagach never pleasured you like this?”
“No,”
I croaked, hating that his voice slipped out.
I am so fucking tired of pretending to be the male who abused me.
Something soft brushed against my skin, my real skin, and I nearly gasped at the sensation. “Izgath, what–”
“Shh,”
he purred, sending a shiver down my spine. “There was something off about you from the moment you joined us that morning in Stryi. My magic could always sense something else beneath your exterior. Now I know why.”
Thankfully, neither Uzadaan or Dromak were paying us any attention. I swung my head toward Izgath. “I want to leave.”
“Then leave,”
he replied, sitting back. A smooth smile slid across his face. “No one is stopping you.”
“You’ll stay?”
I questioned, a stone settling in my gut.
He lifted a brow. “Do you want me to?”
I opened my mouth to reply, then paused. Did I want him to stay? Of course, I had no control over what he did with his time. What was he really asking of me?
That soft caress slipped through my thoughts, and I blinked, returning to the hazy room. “I think you want me to leave with you,”
Izgath crooned, leaning forward. My attention was drawn immediately to his lips as he licked them. “And I think I want to see you like you were in the river, Assyria.”
The way my name rolled off his tongue sent heat straight to my center. More of it bloomed on my cheeks. Never had a male been so forward with me. Could I release my hesitation and give myself to Izgath? What if I fell pregnant? In all my years with Vagach, I hadn’t, but what if this time was the one time? How long could I hide that with my magic? Would Izgath wed me then and spirit me away to a city where I’d see him only after the war ended? Would the only way this ended be in discovery and thereby death?
“Where did you go?”
he asked, brows dipping together and pulling me out of my worries.
Twisting my fingers in my lap, I murmured, “I don’t know if I can.”
A groan, long and low, rumbled against my ears, and my eyes flicked to the side, where the female had her palm wrapped around Dromak’s hardness, pumping him slowly. Uzadaan made a similar motion on himself as he watched.
Another caress of Izgath’s magic against my skin forced my attention back to the Incubus. He looked at me as if he wanted to devour me, and while my body screamed yes, the fears in my mind, the words Priestess Anara had drilled into my head, screamed no.
“I’m sorry,”
I whispered, the sound breathy and entirely too feminine for my liking. In a flash, I was on my feet and striding away. The wooden doors and flickering candles flashed by me as I retreated.
No one called out for me; no one followed me.
When I burst through the door and onto the dank street, I sucked in a much-needed breath, though the air that I inhaled was rancid and pungent with odors I didn’t want to name. Nor did it slow my racing heart; only when I jogged around the corner and leaned against a wall, out of sight, did I exhale and allow my shoulders to drop from my ears.
Why was it that males could enter establishments like those like it was nothing, yet if a female deigned to seek pleasure for herself, even with her husband, she was sentenced to misery? The unfairness of it all set my teeth on edge. My body thrummed with a mix of lust and bewilderment, the fury at the injustice of my existence only fueling the confusing emotions. I desired Izgath, something that was forbidden, compounded by the deadly risks that accompanied it.
Shaking my head, I lifted my gaze away from my trembling fingers only to discover the male striding down the street. His head swiveled as if he were searching for something—for me. Swallowing, I pressed myself harder against the smooth stone, hoping he wouldn’t find me. My head spun with too many worries to let him closer, despite our obvious attraction and the growing tension between us, only heightened by his discovery of the real me a few days prior.
He paused, spinning a slow, assessing circle, and I called on what little magic I had left to blend myself into the long shadows cast by the buildings. I didn’t have the power to render myself fully invisible, but a fuzziness around my form would do. Izgath’s eyes drifted closed, roving beneath his lids. The sun broke through the clouds for a moment, caressing his slightly upturned face. My breath hitched as the light cast his masculine features in stark relief. As the sun moved along, so too did Izgath until he disappeared from my view.
I waited another minute before dropping my shadows and pushing off the wall. As I emerged from the alley, I scoured both directions, ensuring no one was watching my emergence. Then I slipped along the musty, foul smelling street, heading in the direction of the guesthouse that held my private room.
By the time I reached it, the fog clinging to my thoughts had cleared slightly, though my magic was waning from the turbulent emotions swirling through me. Wiggling the key in the lock, I opened the door and leaped into the space. I closed and secured it with more care, not wanting to be heard. Then, I dropped my hold over my magic and returned to myself. Rolling my shoulders and stripping immediately, I relished the feeling of being in my own body again.
But as I stepped out of the large boots with the intention of spending a long time in the attached bathing chamber, a soft rap caught my attention. Spinning, I noticed a hint of something white peeking under the slit in the door. Brows dipping, I padded toward it, crouching down to pull what appeared to be a piece of parchment through.
Unfolding it, I found a single line of neat handwriting.
Whenever you are ready, I will be too, Assyria.