Page 109 of Horns of Wicked Ebony (Deathcaller Duet #2)

A ngels plummeted from the skies like white streaks. Bolts jutted from broken wings. Blood streaked their pale uniforms. Branches snapped beneath their fall. Cries of alarm fractured the air, then silenced with satisfying crunches.

“Again!” I bellowed, and the archers notched and aimed. But the airborne Angels were faster with their bows drawn and at the ready. Arrows, like an oncoming storm, sailed toward us.

A shield of black shrouded the wall, saving us from the worst of the damage. Two bolts sank into the males at the front, one in the thigh, the other in a shoulder. Both pulled them free, though the one with the latter stepped out of line, a female from the second snatching his place.

A swell rose to our left, and Olet raced away to manage that section. “Fire at will,” I commanded the archers. To the Deathveiled, I said, “Use your shadows to cover them. When the Angels reach the base of the wall, we attack.”

“Yes, sir!” they replied, spreading out behind the third line. Beside me, Assyria’s magic unfurled from her fingertips, poised to spear into the skies and protect our soldiers .

Her focus remained on the Angels approaching from below, gauging their distance as much as I was. “I need to be everyone,” she murmured, her brows pinching as she thought. “Me one moment, you another, the Myrza after that. Each form has its advantages.”

Arrows rained down again, barely visible until they were close enough to strike.

Without hesitation, her shadows burst outward, creating a thick veil that left no one vulnerable.

Not a single strike found purchase. When the clattering ceased, she dropped it, allowing the projectiles to fall all around us.

Those at the rear scooped them up and shoved them into quivers for reuse.

The first line fired back, felling another dozen Angels from the sky. Too late, they saw the ones diverging from the right. Projectiles sank into the males at the front. Many collapsed backward, hands clasped over wounded necks.

The first dead.

I glanced at Assyria, worried for her reaction. Her jaw was set hard, but she didn’t crack. Didn’t crumble. Merely bore witness to their sacrifice. Accepted it as part of their path.

More soldiers filled the empty space. Hands reached to pile the deceased out the way, where they could be burned later or wielded by me.

The Angels on the ground closed in, and the archers fired down, halting their advance for the briefest of moments.

It was time.

“Cover us.”

“Yes, sir,” the Vezet? in charge responded without breaking his focus.

“Let’s go,” I shouted at the Deathveiled. Zurronar and Banand spun on their squads, barking instructions. Their Százados relayed further information over the wall, where most of the ground forces waited .

Beside me, Assyria’s magic swirled around her form, until I stood shoulder to shoulder with myself. My magic snaked out and wrapped around her waist. I collected Grem and Zeec in my web, then eased us off the stone. Bringing my fingers to my lips, I let out a sharp whistle, signaling our advance.

Like a swarm of red and black, our army rose. Wings buffeted the air. Shadow crawled through the night, battling with the Angel’s light for space in the skies. We dove toward the ground, covered by the power of thousands atop the wall.

Dozens of squads landed on either side of us in the clearing. On one side, Olet’s battalion charged forward. On the other, two Parancsok combined forces, sending their soldiers clamoring over rocks to cut off any opportunity to take the wall.

The scrape of swords removed from sheaths, the whoosh of glaives slicing through the air, the clink of throwing daggers being stacked, all of it formed an all too familiar harmony.

“Prepare yourselves!” I shouted, digging my heel into the dirt. Beside me, Assyria did the same, drawing a sword that was more appropriate for her normal size. But she wouldn’t impersonate me for long. Just enough to sow chaos into the rabid, fast-approaching Angels.

“Cease shadow!” came my next command. All Demon magic dissipated, bathing the clearing in light. Confusion flickered in blue eyes, and paces slowed, especially in the groups directly facing us.

“Now!” I roared, and as one, the Demon army raced forward, polearms taking the first swipes at our attackers.

Blood spilled for the Fates a moment later.

The clash of bronze and silver rang through the clearing next.

Cries of the dying followed, and I chased them, adrenaline flowing in my veins.

Beside me, Assyria pounded the earth, churning it as she skidded to a stop and sidestepped a blow.

Zeec bounded forward, protecting Assyria’s flank.

I sank my blade into the neck of the first pathetic Angel to challenge me.

The next died without so much as a scream.

A boom sounded to my left, and the dirt exploded, sending a group flying backward. Retaliation came in the form of the illusion of a dozen more sailing overhead. Yet it was a pathetic attempt at best, and I ignored it in favor of cutting down a female headed for Assyria.

She whipped around, and a smirk curved my lips. “You’re welcome.”

Her eyes glittered with amusement through the slits in my helmet. “I’ll never believe that you don’t know how to joke,” she quipped. Then, she swung her blade out, catching a male passing by in the side. It was an impressive move for her only having seen him in her periphery.

“Don’t tire yourself out,” I cautioned, stepping closer so we battled side by side. “It will be a long night yet.”

A group of Angels fell to their knees in front of us, clawing at their eyes. We leaped through the shimmer, cutting all of them down. Izzenna appeared from Assyria’s right, wiping sweat from her brow. With another twist of her hands, she created a new nightmare. We stomped them out of existence.

Assyria released my form with her next breath, the height and bulk unnecessary as the Deathveiled worked magic and weapons together to carve a gouge into the Angel’s line. Yet for every dozen we cut down, two dozen more came to take their place.

The scent of iron thickened the air. The leakage of corpses soaked the dirt. And still, we fought.

Movement above caught my eye, and I snapped a hand out, barely managing to yank Assyria out of the way of a falling Angel. His glassy, lifeless navy eyes stared up at the light slowly petering out overhead.

She stumbled into me, and I savored the feeling of steadying her. My grip tightened of its own accord. I was a possessive beast, especially with her here on the battlefield. My pulse pounded in my ears, and hers beat against my armor.

With her safe in my arms, I snatched an opportunity to assess our surroundings.

In every direction, Angels and Demons battled for the cleared space in front of the wall.

The left flank was holding strong, but the right was faltering.

Angels pressed inward like they were flexing the bend of a bow, and the soldiers struggled to straighten out.

“We need to head that way.” I spun her so she saw what I did.

“Then let’s go,” she replied, determination threaded in her tone. I forced myself to release her.

“With me!” she shouted at the others. I cursed as she took off at a sprint, leaving me behind. Izzenna and Vokkia raced after her, leaping over the bodies they’d helped slaughter and whooping from the thrill.

Zeec bounded alongside my mate, and I whistled at Grem to follow, rage and fear a tumult in my chest. The rest of the males chased after us, Uzadaan swinging a massive hammer at an Angel who tried to take advantage of our change in direction.

Blood pooled under broken wings—feathered and membranous alike.

Another group burst through the trees, cutting off my line of sight to my mate.

Fury flared, and I swung a powerful arc toward the center.

The Angel soldiers leaped out of the way, then two lunged for me at once.

A blast of shadow sent one stumbling. Grem leaped, teeth bared, and closed them around the male’s throat.

The second I sliced from dick to sternum.

Zurronar froze three more of them, allowing another female to stab each between the ribs as she raced by, following the Szélhámos who had given her the ability to stand on the battlefield in the first place. The devotion these former priestesses showed my mate warmed my cold heart.

The threat cleared, I finally reunited with her—and not a moment too soon.

An Angel female leaped for her, and their weapons collided.

Assyria’s teeth gritted in determination.

A small explosion rocked the ground at their feet, but Assyria bent her knees and absorbed the blow. Vokkia leaped in and finished her off.

“Thank you,” Assyria panted. Then, she saw me approach, and relief unpinched her brows.

“Do not run off without me again,” I growled, my tone leaving no room for argument. Yet pride—at her merciless kills, at her unyielding effort, at how far she’s come since our bond snapped into place—heated me from the inside out.

She shot me a saccharine grin. “Make me.”

My nostrils flared as my cock twitched. “Now is not the time for your games.”

“Come on, Halálhívó. We both know we love nothing more than this banter.” Lust flooded our bond as she stepped closer. “And fucking after we get bloody.”

A low groan vibrated against my ribs. I grabbed her arm and yanked her close. “I will fuck you on the streets of Sivy after this for your continued disobedience and use of that smart mouth.”

“Do it,” she purred, batting her long lashes against her cheeks. “But for now, we have a battle to win.”

Dark satisfaction curled through me at the devious look in her eyes. My blood sang for her. For the slaughter. For what would come after. “Aye, we do.”

I released her, and she flipped the hilt of her sword around her wrist. Zurronar’s squads had held the line while we stole a moment amid the bloodshed.

He and Banand worked in tandem to dent the Angel’s forces as the Deathveiled regrouped.

Araquiel moved between them, many of her kin screaming obscenities in her face as she jabbed a glaive into their midst.

I watched for a moment, wondering if she’d falter. If doubt would cross her stoic expression. If she’d turn that weapon on her mate and the Demons around her.

She didn’t, even as a tear carved down her cheek, mixing with her sweat.

An oncoming attack ripped my attention away.

Metal clashed in my ears, and I disarmed the male in three vicious movements.

I fell into the steady rhythm of strike, parry, kill, command.

Grem and Zeec worked diligently to take down Angels alongside us, ensuring my mate was fully protected.

The Deathveiled thrived, working in perfect unison.

Until the trees shivered like one of the Fates had dropped among them. My blade stilled mid-air. The females closed ranks around Assyria.

From the shadowed abyss of the trunks, a figure emerged.

And grinned like a silver blade gleaming in the dark.