Page 36 of Horns of Wicked Ebony (Deathcaller Duet #2)

A watery laugh escaped me at the memory of those final moments with our gardener. “Before I left, he told me that I needed to make my life worth living. To forget about him and focus on myself. To have adventures. I don’t think either of us could have imagined where my path would take me.”

I swiped the wetness from my cheeks with the back of my hand as the memory of Kiira’s note slammed into me and stole my breath. “It wasn’t until we were deep in the desert that I heard of his passing. It shattered me.”

I paused, dragging in a serrated breath while my tattered heart beat against my ribs. The males waited for me to gather myself. Not a hint of condemnation spilled from them at my outward display of emotion. None looked at me like I was lesser than for my tears.

For the first time since I’d stepped into the darkness of leading them alongside Rokath, I felt…respected in my vulnerability.

“I still think of him often, usually late in the night. But I sleep knowing that I am fulfilling his wish for me. That he’d want me to make something of myself. Because then his sacrifice was worth it.”

“That’s why we have to win this war,” another murmured.

I turned my attention to him. “Exactly. And we will win.” My voice grew stronger, steadier.

I straightened my spine. “You are all so brave, battling for your realm. Protecting those you love. Sacrifices are an unfortunate part of this war. I am so grateful for you, as our dead friends were grateful for us. Together, we will honor their memory.”

Several added their assent. Exen caught my eye, giving me a slight dip of his chin.

The approval swelled in my chest, healing another piece of me.

In fact, the entire hour had helped me see my trauma in a new light.

The males too looked at me, not as the mate of the Halálhívó, not as the Szélhámos, but as an equal to them.

And that was the greatest gift of all.

“Thank you for allowing me into your session,” I said, voice thick with emotion.

Exen picked up a small clock from the floor beside him. “We’re only a minute from the next gong. If you need to prepare, now is the time.”

A handful of males, including Mak, rose and went to a far corner of the room, where thick cushions lined the walls. From a small table, many grabbed balls of cotton and shoved them into their ears.

The rest grabbed chairs and arranged them in neat stacks, out of the way. Then, they approached their brothers and sat with them all through the tolling. Jaws clenched. Fingers curled. Nostrils flared.

Exen stood beside me, watching the group until the last sound faded. Then, with trained efficiency, they gathered their belongings and headed for the door. Most stopped to salute me, warming me from the inside out.

“How are you feeling, Szélhámos?” Exen asked as the last few made their way to the hall beyond.

“Awed. Heartbroken. So many things.” I let out a small, breathy laugh. “Do you do this often?”

“Several times a day. It is heavy work, and some days are more draining than others. But giving these soldiers the relief they need makes it all worth it,” he replied.

A knock on the oak drew my attention. On the threshold, Rokath stood, his gaze sweeping over me. “Exen,” he greeted the male as he approached.

“Halálhívó.” Exen swept into a deep bow—because to him, Rokath wasn’t his leader, but a member of the nobility .

I shook my head to clear it. Too often I forgot that if the Kral died, Rokath would inherit the throne.

“Did you get lost, little imposter?” Rokath spoke in my mind.

“Actually, I didn’t. I was right where I was supposed to be.” The words flowed out of me with ease. Because I believed them wholeheartedly. I needed to see this. I needed to see what else I was fighting for other than equality for females in the realm.

And these males needed to see me too.

I had no doubt they’d go and spread the word to their units of my compassion and kindness. That I had strength too, even if it wasn’t in the physical sense that they so often defaulted to.

“Coming for a session of your own?” Exen asked my mate.

The corner of Rokath’s mouth twitched up. “Merely to discover where the Szélhámos had gone when I didn’t find her in the female barracks.”

Exen glanced at me. “Please know that you are welcome to join us at any time. Both of you.”

“Thank you, Exen,” I said sincerely, meeting his gaze. “I’d love to learn more about your magic in the future. For now, though, I do need to see to the accommodations.”

“I am available to you anytime,” he replied.

I dipped my head, not because he ranked higher than me, but out of respect. Rokath offered him some parting words before I followed him into the hall. Unlike the last time I’d wandered down it, it bustled with males coming and going.

“I thought you had to prepare for Xannirin and Kiira’s arrival?” I asked down our bond. A flash of something—metal striking metal—entered his mind a moment before he shoved it away and responded.

“I finished early and came to find you. Imagine my surprise that you were on the completely wrong side of the keep.” His voice was smug even in his head.

“If you say I told you so… ”

A laugh rumbled down our connection. “You’re already thinking it, and that’s enough.”

Rokath led me through a complex maze to the empty barracks.

Massive arched doors awaited us, and with a tug on the massive rings, Rokath threw them open.

Instead of a musty, disused smell, citrus and vinegar greeted me.

I stepped inside, noting an expansive sitting area toward the front, the cushions crisp and pillows fluffed.

Beyond a barrier wall, rows and rows of bunks waited, sheets already tucked tight against the mattresses.

My feet carried me forward and past Rokath as I noted the bright shine on the windows near the ceiling, the polish on the tiles in the attached bathing chamber. The pristine mirrors hanging over a row of basins.

Mouth open, I spun on my heel and faced my mate. “Did you do this?”

“Personally? No. This is a job for the new recruits,” he stated. Both those riotous burgundy eyes sparkled with amusement.

A small smile tugged up the corners of my mouth. “Thank you.”

A sound like rolling thunder emanated from his chest as he stepped toward me. Brushing his knuckles across my cheek, he held me captive with his gaze. “I do have another gift for you.”

I arched an eyebrow. “Do you now?”

His other hand emerged, holding a cloth-wrapped package. “When did you–”

“I left it here when I didn’t find you since I knew we’d return,” he interrupted me.

I accepted the object from him, tugging on the corners of the fabric to unveil it. His hand pressed over mine, stilling them. I lifted my gaze to meet his.

“Before you open it, I want you to know something.” His expression was deadly serious, and his gravelly tone sent a shiver down my spine.

“What’s that?” I asked, head cocking to the side.

“This is not a means to control you.”

Curiosity curled through me. I lifted a brow, and he retreated, leaving me to finish opening his gift.

The cloth fell away, and a sharp breath escaped me, echoing off the tile like a solemn vow. Because this wasn’t a mere gift—it was a symbol.

The ebony helmet shone as light kissed its surface.

Unlike Rokath’s, raised whorls decorated the otherwise smooth metal.

Burgundy roses ringed thick spikes swept off the top and back.

The shape curved over my face, dipping to a severe point at the bottom.

A slit across the middle left room for my eyes, broken by another that dropped toward my mouth.

It was fierce. Deadly. Beautiful.

“I had this made for you, not to force you to cover your face again, but to show the world who you truly are. Imposter.” Rokath drew my attention to him as he stepped forward, his form foggy.

A sob lodged in my throat. He’d made this for me. Thought about each detail, and for how long? How long had he kept it hidden in the recesses of his mind so I wouldn’t know?

He’d commissioned this, for me, so I could be his true equal. In every way.

Carefully, I turned it and placed it over my head. It settled with surprising ease. Through the narrow eye-slit, I met my mate’s gaze—and the reverence made my breath hitch. “Thank you.” I had no other words to offer him, but the surge of emotion down our bond gave voice to everything I could not.

Rokath’s fingers dipped beneath the sharp point of the helmet and tipped my chin up.

“Your devotion has healed me, as mine has healed you. But our love? It does not merely heal. It hunts. When you wear this beside me on the battlefield, the world will tremble at our feet. The Fates themselves cannot defy our will.”

The conviction of his words solidified in my bones. Imbued me with further strength. “We’ll make the Angels kneel for us. Worship the ground upon which we stand.”

A wicked smile curved my mate’s lips. “That’s my devious little imposter.”

He eased the helmet over my head and held it out for me to take. I tucked it under my arm, careful not to let it slip. Together, we emerged from the barracks and into the sunlight. I let it wash over my face and gleam off my beautiful new helmet.

Rokath secured the doors behind him. He really had taken care of everything.

We’d had a rocky start upon reuniting with the army.

Tension, conflict, strife. His fears of losing me again shoving in the way of our progress.

But now? His commitment to this path—to showing the world I was his equal—brought fresh tears to my eyes.

He swiped them away with his thumbs as he looked down at me like I was his reason for breathing. “Now, let’s go train. I need to ensure you’re capable of killing even me by the time we return to the front.”

“Who says I cannot already?” I teased.

He snorted and shook his head. “The first time I gave you a dagger. I even pressed it into my chest for you. You still failed.”

I rolled my eyes. “That was months ago. I’m much better now.”

He leaned down, his hot breath ghosting across my ear. “Then show me.”

With that challenge, he retreated, his gaze never leaving me. Heat flooded my veins, and I raced after him. His long strides ate the distance to the training area, leaving me jogging to keep up. When we reached it, males were already fighting, sweaty, and cursing one another.

Dirt kicked up beneath my boots as I donned my helmet again, the glint of it drawing the attention of soldiers on the periphery. As I passed them, they regarded me warily.

I merely grinned beneath my mask.

Let them think that I was still lesser than them because of what was between my legs. I’d prove soon enough that I was worthy of my place here, leading them.