Page 59 of Horns of Wicked Ebony (Deathcaller Duet #2)
T he smooth bannister slid beneath my fingers as I ascended the endless steps to the top of our tower. My thighs protested every press of my foot, having spent all their energy already this afternoon during training. Behind me, a laugh rumbled in Rokath’s chest. “Sore, little imposter?”
“Every day I wake up thinking it can’t get any worse. To my horror, every day, it does,” I replied through jagged breaths. Any moment, my heart might give out with how forcefully it pounded against my ribcage.
“Wait,” Rokath said, his tone utterly serious. But I wasn’t going to argue with a break climbing the stairs. I heaved down air and faced him, wondering what he wanted now.
He cocked his head ever so slightly to the side, as if he were listening for something. “Do you hear that?”
The only sound—other than my mate’s voice—was the blood thrumming in my ears. “No?”
Rokath moved past me, and with a huff, I dragged myself behind him. He stopped at the nearest window, angling himself so he could look up toward the small balcony perched on the top.
“Reaper’s eye,” he cursed, then broke into a jog.
“What?” I panted, attempting to keep up with him and utterly failing. He disappeared from my sight in seconds, and somehow I hated him even more for how easily he trekked up this torture device.
By the time I reached our rooms, the door was flung wide, and Rokath was already pressing his weight into the stone that hid the secret passage leading to the roof. Grem and Zeec were on their feet, their sharp barks echoing in the space.
My brows pinched even more than they already were as I braced my hands on my hips. “Is someone up there?”
He glanced over his shoulder at me. “Not someone. Lots of someones.”
“Stay,” I instructed the hounds, following him up even more fucking stairs. I was going to start leaving one of these windows open so I could fly up after training. Or maybe Grem and Zeec could be trained to pull a litter with me strapped to it.
A few shocked screams greeted me as I ascended the final step. Rokath already stood beyond the doorway, arms crossed over his chest. “What is going on here?”
I squeezed by him, surveying the group of soldiers—male and female—who had all fallen to one knee at the sight of him.
“Halal–Halálhívó, we are performing the initiation ritual,” one male managed to stammer out.
Without warning, Rokath called on his wings, nearly knocking me to the side in the process, and floated higher, turning toward Xannirin’s tower.
The Kral had departed that morning for Uzhhorod, so no one should have been over there other than Kiira.
Fury etched his expression when he landed again. I subtly kicked the back of his leg in protest. But his thighs were harder than the bronze we wielded and all I succeeded in doing was furthering my own pain .
“No, you absolutely are not,” Rokath snapped, his tone abrasive. “When did this start again?”
Another male—a Százados by the look of him—dared speak next. “It never really stopped, Halálhívó.”
Rokath uttered a string of curses under his breath. “We cannot spare any more recruits for this ridiculous challenge. Too many fall to their deaths.”
“Wait, what is the ritual?” I asked, circling around him and inserting myself into the middle of the conversation.
Rokath pinched the bridge of his nose. “They have to climb to the top of the spire and let the wind take them over the sea. If you don’t catch the right draft, or if you aren’t a strong flier, you’ll plummet into the ocean.”
I recalled then how strong the wind had been as we leaped from this balcony before flying to the private island. “The Halálhívó is right, that’s far too dangerous, especially with our new volunteers,” I repeated. We were a united front after all.
“But you said to treat them like we would any male,” the bold one said. Clearly, he was ready for the Reaper’s wrath. And Rokath’s.
Yet his protest sent my stomach plummeting. He was right. Would we risk the males’ respect if we forbade the females from participating?
Maariya rose from her prostrated position, and I almost groaned.
Why did she have to be one of the instigators?
She’d been indispensable in training, persuading even the most rigid males in her unit to help the priestesses along with others who were less amenable to the changes.
If Rokath were to punish all the soldiers here, she’d be among them.
“I don’t wish to be treated differently,” she professed, daring to hold the gaze of the Halálhívó. A few others straightened in solidarity, offering the same sentiment. More than a few peeks of the devious eye tattoo greeted me as they turned their arms over.
Rokath’s mind was a whirlwind of thought. Through the tempest, I said, “If we don’t, that might hurt what we’re trying to accomplish.”
“I know. Give me a second,” came his tense reply.
Everyone looked expectantly at my mate.
“I will participate too. They will respect me more for it.”
“Absolutely not.”
“I know how to fly. Besides, we leaped from here the other day.”
“When I was with you. But this? This is a solitary mission. I will not risk your life for something so asinine.”
Rokath grumbled and banished his wings. “We’ll have an initiation ritual. But it’s going to be a new one, with new rules. My rules . And no one will fucking die.”
“Whatever you say, Halálhívó,” the Százados affirmed. Rokath bristled at the casual address. I covered my mouth with the back of my hand to conceal my smile as he glowered at the male.
“It is whatever I say because I lead this army.”
The male swallowed, quaking beneath Rokath’s ire.
“Ten lashes for you tomorrow,” my mate snarled.
To his credit, he merely nodded and accepted his fate. Others averted their eyes or nudged loose stones with the toes of their boots.
“What do you need us to do, Halálhívó?” Maariya asked, settling into a stance with her hands flattened behind her lower back.
“Start by retrieving those other imbeciles and have them meet us in the fields beyond the academy. Gather everyone else too. We’ll see to Parancsok Olet and Hadvezér Rapp.
” The sigh Rokath released was threaded with annoyance, but that didn’t smother the excitement brimming in each soldier’s expression .
“Yes, sir!” she replied. Then, she called out her wings and leaped into the air, sailing around the corner and out of sight.
“The rest of you, dismissed to the field,” he grumbled. Their chatter carried on the wind as they departed.
A small giggle escaped me as we returned to our rooms. “What are you going to have us do?”
“Don’t know yet. I’ll think of something on the way down.” Grem and Zeec greeted us, tails wagging, at the base of the secret passage. Rokath paused to scratch behind their ears.
I let out a long groan and shouldered past him. “Fuck, I’m going to have to go down all those stairs again.”
“And all the way back up,” Rokath added.
The thought was enough to make me weep.
“Maybe I change my mind,” I said, throwing myself onto one of the couches. Zeec trotted over, nosing my thigh and snuffling under my hand. I threaded my fingers in his soft fur, wishing I could go to sleep in it.
“Oh, no, you don’t,” Rokath said, grasping my forearm and hauling me upright again. Fatigue forced every muscle to protest. “You started this. You’re going to be first across the finish line, or else I’m going to make you do it all over again.”
“Do you enjoy torturing me?” I glared at him, shoving loose tendrils of my hair behind my ears.
He leaned in close, stealing the air from my lungs.
Then, he pressed a kiss to the underside of my jaw.
An arm wrapped around my waist, drawing me against his hard body.
“I do. I love punishing you, Assyria. You’ll be too sore and tired for me to fuck you tonight.
But I will thoroughly enjoy every minute of it nonetheless. ”
“Have I ever told you I hate you?” I rasped out as his tongue trailed to my pulse point. He dragged his sharp teeth over the spot, making more core clench.
“Not in a while,” he replied, retreating and leaving me breathless. The smirk he sported was wicked. “Now, let’s get going.”
Without waiting for a response, he dragged me to my feet. The moment they hit the stone stairs, I groaned again. “Just go ahead and kill me now.”