Page 30 of Horns of Wicked Ebony (Deathcaller Duet #2)

He paled as his attention flicked between the two of us. Then, he ran a hand over his close-cropped hair before gripping the back of his neck. “Mate?” he finally managed to get out.

“I will explain further later,” I replied, leaving no room for argument.

“Of course, Halálhívó,” he said, a slight tremble in his voice.

Could I blame him? He’d whipped Assyria, flaying her back open.

And I was the most feared Demon in all of Keleti for a reason.

Did a part of me want to offer him the same for daring to harm my mate?

Of course. But I’d decided on the road here that he’d receive no reprimand from me.

He was only acting on information he had at the time.

And I needed his loyalty now more than ever.

With a little more respect, he greeted Assyria, even offering her a slight bow. She may never be a Kralovna in title, but in my eyes? She ruled the world. “Welcome to Fured, Szélhámos.”

She kept her expression decidedly neutral as he straightened. Pride swelled in my chest. Assyria was growing more and more confident interacting with the officers and soldiers with each passing day.

“Thank you, Parancsok Olet. I trust that you’ll be able to assist in training the new female units. My mate has told me many great things about you. I hope they are all true.” Her voice dripped with sweetness, though a snarky bite threaded through it.

So very typical of my little imposter.

He glanced at me again, utter confusion playing out across his myriad of expressions.

I merely waited, stone-faced, for him to respond.

Assyria was taking a risk with the way she spoke to him, especially in front of all these males who did not know her.

I wanted her to see it through. To own her rightful place at my side, even if it wasn’t a subject I would have broached in the open.

Finally, he cleared his throat and said, “Absolutely, Szélhámos. Whatever you need me to do, I shall do.”

“First, we should drop the horses off at the stables and ensure Rapp is settled,” she pronounced, now turning her attention to me.

“I’ll show you where they are,” I told her. “See you at dinner, Olet.”

He offered us a salute as we entered the doors to the academy. People raced around us, all pausing to offer me a respectful greeting. Shouts of “Halálhívó!” rang out, but most died when they noticed Assyria beside me.

All these males had ridden out the night after the incident, and none, save for Olet now, knew of everything that had transpired. They didn’t have months to become accustomed to seeing her veilless, witnessing her interact with Rapp and me.

Guilt hit me like a stab to the gut at how long I’d let her suffer through their whispers, stares, judgment . She’d never faltered, rooting herself in steadfast defiance. I’d hated it. But now? It was something I wanted to protect. To nurture. To grow.

Reaching down our bond, I brushed a smoky tendril of magic against her mind. I wanted to reach for her hand, to feel her warm skin. Those small touches grounded me as much as they did her. Let me know she was safe by my side and not about to be strung up for a sacrifice by the Angels.

Through thick lashes, she peeked up at me, captivating me, as she always did, with those soulful burgundy eyes.

At the stables, we handed off our mounts, then retraced our steps to the courtyard where the wagons were pulling in one by one.

Rapp’s was at the front, with two Vezet? crouched on either side of him and helping him to sit.

Grem and Zeec had already hopped to the ground and peered up at them, tails wagging softly.

By the time we reached him, he was on his feet. “Just like old times, huh?” he asked me, grinning widely.

I rolled my eyes. “It’s nothing like old times.”

“Psh,” he said, then he winked at Assyria. “The only real difference is that you’re here now.”

“Come on, let’s get you to the healer so he can examine you. Might need your head checked as well,” I said, looping his arm over my shoulder and helping him amble forward. I whistled for the hounds to follow.

“Again, I can walk on my own,” he grumbled.

Assyria giggled behind us. “You can, but you’re too slow.”

“I suppose we both know that the Halálhívó likes to go fast,” Rapp quipped, and the two of them burst into laughter. A hiss slipped through his lips, and he winced. A sharp reminder of what he’d almost lost—what we’d almost lost.

“Knock it off, both of you, or he’s going to hurt himself again. Like the last time. And the time before that,” I pointed out.

Rapp grimaced and clutched his chest with his free hand. “Unfortunately this asshole is right.”

A short staircase greeted us as we turned a corner in the keep.

The healing wing took up two floors, but the lower was for emergent cases.

“Think you can go up them?” I asked, ducking out from under his arm.

Grem and Zeec bounded forward, spinning at the top and looking down at us with an almost judgmental air.

Rapp nodded, gritting his teeth. Gripping the railing on his good side for extra support, he hauled himself up, one slow step at a time. Assyria went beside him, while I hovered two paces behind, ready to catch him should he fall .

Halfway up, we paused, and I glanced around the familiar space. It was decidedly quiet, save for voices drifting from other halls. Rapp wiped sweat off his brow and planted his boot on the next step. I knew from experience he wouldn’t want many people to see him this weak.

When we finally summited, I told Assyria to jog ahead and find the lead healer. Rapp shuffled the rest of the way on his own, using the wall for support, though I was primed to step in the moment he needed it.

The ruby-eyed male appeared, my mate in tow, moments later, his assessing eyes already raking over his Hadvezér. “Get in here and let me look at you. Those combat healers don’t always do the best job of actually curing ailments,” he grumbled. “Sloppy at best, the lot of them.”

Assyria slammed a hand over her mouth to silence a snicker.

“If you tell me I can draw a bow or swing a sword tomorrow, I’ll tell you how much better you are than them,” Rapp commented as he rounded the corner and into an examination room.

The lead healer released a sigh threaded with so much irritation I was surprised when he didn’t smack the back of Rapp’s head. “Just sit on the table.”

“Wait,” Assyria told Grem and Zeec before following us inside. The hounds huffed but did as they were told, framing the entry like twin statues.

Together, Assyria and I helped Rapp settle into place, though he attempted to shrug off our assistance.

But the pallor of his skin and sheen of sweat on his forehead spoke of just how difficult the short trek was for him.

He tipped his head back against the wall, chest rising with shallow breaths as he unlaced the leather armor .

The healer opened a nearby cabinet and piled instruments and potions onto a small table.

“We’ll leave you to it,” I said.

“You’ll have my full report this evening,” he promised, dragging his supplies closer to Rapp.

Assyria gave Rapp a quick squeeze on his thigh. “We’ll see you later. Promise.”

He merely nodded and continued to work his shirt off.

“Be a good boy and do as the lead healer says,” I told him, unable to help the twist of my lips.

Assyria laughed as Rapp flashed me an obscene gesture.

The healer muttered something under his breath about Rapp harming himself further.

With that, we left our obstinate friend behind and reentered the hall.

I closed the door behind us with a gentle click, ensuring Rapp had privacy while the healer examined him.

“Now what?” my mate asked me. The dog’s nails clicked against the stone floors as we left the healing wing.

“Now, we bathe. And if you’re lucky, I’ll let you touch more than soap.”