Page 111 of Horns of Wicked Ebony (Deathcaller Duet #2)

U zadaan stabbed the Myrza and whirled into a crouch to face the Zahal. Flashes of white from deep below highlighted each bare branch in stark relief. A bronze vise crushed my chest.

We’d made a terrible mistake.

In that moment of frozenness, others had been given time to creep forward, under control of Ishim’s Hive.

The surge of glassy-eyed puppets broke the treeline. Quaked the earth beneath my feet. I yanked Assyria behind me, forcing her out of Ishim’s line of sight.

“Do not be afraid. Hold your ground. Protect yourself at all costs. You are the most precious life here.”

My pulse pounded like a war drum in my chest as I calculated how many dead were around us. How many I could Call to shield her. To shield all of us.

I counted how many precious seconds we had to live.

The number for both was far too few.

But I would not let her die. The world bent to my will.

I dropped to a single knee.

Curled my furious fingers into my palm.

Cocked my fist.

And slammed .

A shockwave of ebony shadow clawed across the hillside, knocking our attackers back for a single, precious moment.

All around us, corpses rose. Sweat beaded my brow as I pushed my magic farther and farther afield, gathering whomever I could to serve me.

The roar of the fight was lost on me as I called, begged, pleaded , with the dead to assist us. With shaking legs, I shoved to my feet, head still dipped down as I dug into my mighty power.

“Reaper, I wield in your name.”

I spoke the words aloud as I brought my arms out in front of me, pointing directly at Ishim.

The ground trembled as the bodies surged on the wave of my fury.

“Let your eye wander here.”

I snapped my gaze forward, locking with the ice blue eyes of the Angel’s Zahal.

“Giver, bless me with the power to slaughter the remainder of these insects.”

Screams rose to a crescendo around me. Vague awareness of the Deathveiled fighting the ring of Angels around us slipped away. My sole focus was on the male calling more and more Angels to his Hive. Because he wouldn’t deign to enter the minds of the Demons, and that was his fatal mistake.

Our staredown continued as the living and dead fought in massive stacked rings.

“Weaver, let the Demon threads hold strong.”

I took a menacing step forward, dipping to pick up my blade at the same time. Ishim drew his, both our attention split between each other and the Gods-blessed power we wielded.

He swung first. Sparks scattered from the force of our collision.

I shoved him with all my might, muscles trembling with exertion.

I had the uphill advantage, and yet he hardly stumbled.

His movements were crisp, his breath unbroken, fresh as if he’d awoken only an hour before.

And I had led from the fall of night, side by side with my soldiers since the first warning shattered our planning.

Coward.

Heel dug into the dirt, he launched under my blade, aiming for my legs.

I leaped at the last second, reaching for a low hanging branch.

With one hand, I swung myself behind him, spinning the moment my feet struck the earth.

But Ishim’s lithe frame made him faster than me, and he was already poised to strike.

A wall of obsidian was all that kept his blade from grazing my armor. With a growl, I pressed forward, hoping to make him stumble going uphill. Flashes of white dotted the edges of my vision as more and more of his soldiers worked their way through the trees to the height of the battle.

They gave us a wide berth as we fought like feral beasts. Dozens of my corpses were falling permanently, either unable to use their limbs any longer or because my well was drying up like water in the Paks Desert.

Ishim sidestepped, leveling out with me. Behind me, I knew, was a smooth outcropping. There, slaughtering him would be easier. I let him back me there, laying my careful, precarious trap. The earth gave way to rock beneath my boot.

Only a few more steps…

My heel hooked on something in the dark, and my world tilted on its axis.

Ishim seized the opportunity and leaped forward, blade spearing straight to my middle.

I crashed to the ground, unforgiving metal slamming into my spine.

Agony speared my upper thigh as the tip of the Zahal’s blade dug between the plates of my armor.

I snatched the sharp edges with my gloved palms, silver biting through the fabric there too.

But the pain was ashes beneath the fire of my will to protect Assyria.

I’d endured far worse and had the scars to prove it.

Blood cascaded from my hand as I wrenched his sword free and threw it into the darkness. The luminosity cast by the Angels flying overhead was dimmed here, rocks and thick-needled pine trees blocking it out.

Ishim drew a dagger by the tip, arm poised and ready to throw. There were only a few places it could penetrate my armor, but I knew from past experience he had good aim. And in this position, with me on the ground and him standing over me, the space between my helmet and my chest plate was exposed.

Smoky gray unfurled from my frame and then stuttered out entirely, my magic waning from contact with silver.

Fuck.

How could I have stumbled at the penultimate moment? Ishim wouldn’t hesitate to slaughter Assyria once he was done with me. Image after image of him torturing her flashed through my mind. He wouldn’t hold back. Not after all the times I’d tormented him, taking the females he loved from him.

I swallowed, hard, as the white of his form gleamed. He took a long, confident step forward, passing through a stream of light that managed to flit through the branches. Like he knew he had me pinned like a wounded animal, and he was preparing to deliver the killing blow.

He cannot end me. He cannot have my mate.

I gritted my teeth and prepared to defend myself, injured leg aching as I attempted to rise from the cold ground.

“I love you, little imposter. In this life and all the rest.”

I had to tell her one last time. Because I might never be able to again .

Fury and fear twisted our bond tight. An all too familiar scream ripped through the night, and my stomach plummeted. Ishim’s attention ripped toward the main battle as another feminine one sounded—but that one did not belong to mate.

“Assyria!” I shouted down our bond.

Shadows ripped through the slashes of white overhead.

A small, dark silhouette flew through the night a heartbeat later, slamming into Ishim.

The two skidded along the length of rock.

Daggers clattered. Bronze flashed as Ishim’s attacker stabbed.

Silver followed. An agonized shriek shredded me to pieces.

Over and over they tumbled, battling for leverage, as they careened toward the edge of the cliff.

“No!” I roared, lunging for them. I slammed against the ground, denting my armor and punching the breath from my lungs. My hands scrambled for purchase around a pair of boots.

But the leather was slick with crimson. My palms even more so.

And my mate fell.

Swallowed whole by the abyss beneath me.

In the mountains, the drops were long. A pulse of pain dug into our bond before ebbing.

For a moment, all I could do was lie there. Numb. detached. Disbelieving that after everything, fucking everything , the Reaper had taken her from me.

One tear slipped out. Then another. By the third, I was no longer the Halálhívó, the most feared Demon in all of Keleti. I was a shattered husk of a male, begging his Fates to weave any other path.

“Assyria,” I croaked, her name a desperate, broken plea.

I didn’t want to live in a world without her. Without my little imposter. The female who had so ungraciously upended my life, threatening to kill me from our very first interaction.

My world narrowed to the end of that ledge. The sweet relief it promised me. The chance to see her again in my next life.

Yet, through my addled power, a flicker snatched my attention. The faintest of tugs had me dragging myself forward, peering into the void. Overhead, Angel magic flashed, illuminating two burgundy eyes.

And one bloody arm barely hanging on the rim of a jutting rock beneath me.

“Can you fucking help?” my mate shot up at me.

The next tear that slipped out carved relief into my cheek.

“Can you fly?” I shouted.

“He sliced me with silver as we went down, I don’t know that I can call on my wings,” she said, brows pinching as she desperately held my gaze.

That protective beast inside me roared to life.

I will not let her fall to her death.

Gritting my teeth, I yanked on all the magic remaining in my well and pulled my black, membranous wings into existence.

In seconds, I sailed over the ledge, dropping straight to my mate.

When I captured her waist in my arms, I’d never been more grateful to feel the curves of her body pressed against mine.

Sweat slicked my skin as I flew us upward, the magic of our mate bond the only thing keeping me going. The rock cracked from the force of our landing. We tumbled to the ground, and with the last of my strength, I hauled Assyria on top of me so she wouldn’t be crushed beneath my bulk.

Breath heaved in and out of my lungs from the force of my exertion. Yet I couldn’t tear my gaze away from Assyria.

Stained with crimson, coated in dark dirt, and with eyes of devious burgundy shining down at me, I couldn’t decide if I wanted to kiss her or spank her.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” I berated her through a chest still constricted by a vise.

“I saved your life. You’re welcome,” she shot back, grinning with wild abandon. “Oh, and I killed another Myrza too. She was planning on doing what I did, but to you.”

Rage battled with relief inside me as I crushed her against me. My heart thudded so hard against my armor, I was certain it would beat right out of the metal casing. “Do not do that again.”