Page 37 of Horns of Wicked Ebony (Deathcaller Duet #2)

A horn sliced through the quiet, snapping me out of the papers piled on my desk in front of me.

My gut twisted, instinct taking over before my mind caught up.

I dragged in a deep breath, reminding myself who and where I was before my reaction got away from me.

No matter how many years had passed since I graduated from the academy, that sound still brought out a visceral response.

Assyria sat upright from where she’d been reading on one of the couches across the room. Grem huffed in annoyance, shifting his head off her lap. On the floor beside her, Zeec cracked a red eye. “What was that?” she asked, brows dipping together as she looked around.

I eased my chair back, rolling out my neck and shoulders as I stood. “That, little imposter, means that someone of importance is arriving.”

The book closed with a thwack, and she set it aside immediately. “Like the Kral?”

Grem slid off the couch, stretching his long legs and then shaking out his fur. Zeec picked his head up and yawned, flashing his deadly teeth, but made no other move to rise .

“Like the Kral and the High Priestess,” I replied, rounding my desk to the corner where my sword sat. While at the military academy, I’d opted not to dress in my full metal armor on a daily basis, reserving it for moments of training. The plates would wear out faster, especially with the briny air.

Instead, I donned something between a dress uniform and fighting leathers when I wasn’t in the ring. This was no exception, and I was forced to attach my sheath to my hip instead of to my back like I normally preferred.

Assyria jumped to her feet, smoothing out her hair and jerking on the hem of her tunic to straighten it. Then she looked down at her dark leather pants and long-sleeved wool top. “Do I need to change? This is not formal enough to meet with the Kral.”

“If Xannirin has a problem with it, he can lodge a complaint with the edge of my sword,” I growled, raking my gaze over my mate’s body.

Her clothes hugged her curves in the best way, highlighting the toned muscle from her years working the fields with her family and the curved waist that made me want to fall to my knees and worship every inch of her.

After weeks of battle training, her arms and shoulders carved themselves into lethal weapons too.

It would be a mistake to underestimate her pretty exterior. I’d seen plenty of times the fire that waited to burn underneath.

She popped out a hip and propped a fist there as she locked eyes with me. “Are you ready, though?”

The last time I’d seen my cousins had been at the ball prior to our departure.

I’d dragged Kiira into the hall along with my mate to admonish them.

Xannirin had told me upon my return that I needed to pull myself together and stop allowing Assyria to affect me so deeply.

To say we parted on good terms would have been an overstatement .

At the time, he’d been nearly as unhappy as I had been about my newfound mating bond.

I didn’t expect that to have changed either, despite how I’d come to love Assyria. This reunion would not be without high tensions.

I’d fought those fucking white fanatics for centuries. But when it came to opposing my own blood? That was a battle I was unprepared for.

Why the fuck did I care so much what my cousins thought? Normally I barked orders and received little pushback. Yet with the integration of females into the army, I was wading into political territory where I didn’t wield absolute autonomy.

“Aye,” I grumbled, hating that she could sense my nervousness.

I grabbed my horned helmet and settled it over my head.

With only the slits in the ebony skull revealing the villain beneath, I felt at ease.

Power thrummed in my veins as the mask of the Halálhívó slipped into place.

The females needed to see who the fuck I was upon their arrival.

As did Xannirin.

With one last check in the mirror, I whistled at the dogs. Grem trotted to the door, and after a quick shake of his fur, Zeec followed. Assyria grabbed her rose-covered helmet, giving one of the whorls a quick polish with her sleeve, then secured it in place.

Those devious burgundy eyes glinted behind the black metal. “I’m ready.”

“Then let’s go,” I growled, striding for the door.

Yanking the handle, I allowed her to pass under my arm and enter the hall first. Noise rose as we descended the stairs, the males eager to glimpse the new arrivals.

Near the bottom, we caught up to Rapp, whose pace was still closer to a slug’s despite the copious amounts of pium he imbibed daily .

Clapping him on the shoulder, I hurried him along so we wouldn’t be late to greet Xannirin and Kiira.

“Think I should have put on a different tunic? The bandage is so apparent in this one,” he joked, shrugging my hand off.

I glanced at his attire. Sure enough, his gray shirt hung low down the center, revealing the top of the white dressing covering his still-healing wound. “Why are you still wearing that? I thought the healer said you didn’t need to cover it anymore.”

“Aye, well that was until I popped a few stitches yesterday and had to be rebandaged,” he grumbled. Behind us, Assyria laughed.

“Stop trying to draw a fucking bow,” I groused. “You’re only delaying how soon you can actually fight again.”

“Don’t act like you wouldn’t be doing the same damn thing,” Rapp snapped.

I opened my mouth to retort, but Assyria smacked my back. “Don’t even try to deny it.”

Rapp snorted. “Have I ever told you how much I love that she gives you so much shit?”

We made the final descent toward the courtyard, and I growled, “Knock it off both of you and set examples for the soldiers.”

“He just doesn’t want us to have fun at his expense,” Assyria said, shooting Rapp a grin.

I halted our procession and turned to my mate. “I can make it all go away. Quite handily, in fact. You’ll be running laps around the academy until you can’t breathe. Then, your smart mouth will finally remain shut.”

She crossed her arms and cocked her head. “You’d rather silence me that way than other ways?”

I nearly choked as Rapp barked a laugh. “Can you leave me out of your foreplay? Also, we’re going to be late. ”

Muttering about Assyria’s attitude under my breath, I marched us forward again. The exterior doors brought with them a blast of salty air with more than a little bite. Winter had descended on the Demon Realm, along with the gales off the coast.

“Makes me almost miss the Paks Desert,” Rapp commented, attempting to hide his shiver as we exited the open air hall into the courtyard. Soldiers knelt in a massive wave, already in sharp formation.

Olet waited at the gates, his maroon armor gleaming and hands secured behind his lower back. He greeted the three of us with a message. “The scouts spotted the banners of House Vrak a few miles out. The Kral and the High Priestess should be here any time.”

“Any notes on their numbers?” I asked.

“Several thousand by the looks of them. Though I can’t say they were pleased when they saw they were all female.” Olet shifted his weight and let out a long sigh. “We have a long road ahead of us, I’m afraid.”

A muscle feathered in my jaw. Those who arrived with us knew of the plans, but we hadn’t made a formal announcement to those already in residence.

Today would be that day.

“I appreciate your support, Olet.”

He dipped his head. “Of course, Halálhívó.”

I took a step back and shouted at the males manning the gates. “Open them!”

Above us, instructions barked between the sentries. With a groan, the siege doors began to move, their massive chains wrapping around each other with loud clinks. Assyria, Rapp, and Olet followed me into their yawn. Behind us, the soldiers rose and marched forward .

It was a maneuver I’d practiced countless times during my years as a youngling here. Whenever my father or the Kral had arrived, we’d done the exact same thing. I shoved away the memories of those bastards and focused on who approached us now—my cousins.

Assyria and I planted ourselves at the head of the road leading away from the academy, the highest ranking officers flanking us.

The soldiers fanned out behind us, standing for inspection.

Grem and Zeec loped through the grass, scenting the new arrivals.

A sharp whistle brought them back to my side.

Hoofbeats drummed against the dirt, sending a billowing dust storm in their wake.

The Kral ascended the final hilltop astride a beastly black stallion, slowing his mount to a stop.

The clouds parted then like they’d been waiting for him, his gem-encrusted crown glittering in the sunlight.

His long hair was tied atop his head, and his beard was neatly trimmed.

A sweeping one-shoulder burgundy cape covered his formal attire, buttons gleaming as if the jacket had just been pulled from his wardrobe and not accompanied him on a weeks-long ride through the Demon Realm.

Beside him was Kiira, a silver circlet ringing her head, glittering with enough diamonds to rival Xannirin.

Her black dress whipped in the wind, along with the sheer veil that covered her face.

With reins gripped in both hands, an array of glimmering bracelets bounced as she descended the hill at a canter.

Ranking members of the Kral’s Guard framed them both, their red armor glinting.

I tore my attention away from my cousins as the next wave of travelers crested the hill.

Among the supply wagons, hundreds of black-robed females rode on horseback.

Still more traversed the path on foot. I had to blink a few times to ensure I wasn’t hallucinating.

They are all priestesses ?

More and more spilled into view like an overturned inkwell. I counted them, unable to believe what I was seeing. Assyria’s excitement trickled down our bond, drawing my attention away from them.