Page 68 of Horns of Wicked Ebony (Deathcaller Duet #2)

T wo weeks of training together, and the females were already working efficiently as units unto themselves.

Many of the males had ripped up their opinions of the matter and burned them, especially after the initiation ritual.

Powerful ones worked one-on-one with the new warriors, aiding them in honing their magic.

Volunteers for my elite unit had flooded in, and selecting the final members had been brutal.

Uzadaan, Izzenna, and Vokkia were all natural choices.

Maariya and Darrx, too. A handful of others with a range of powerful magic rounded out the group—the Deathveiled, as they’d agreed upon calling themselves after our first training session together.

We’d started drilling as a team at the beginning of each day while we were all fresh, watched carefully by Rokath and Rapp, of course. With a solidified routine, all our plans were unfolding smoothly.

The one aspect of our new lives no one accounted for, though, was the drama.

Unfortunately for me, today was my turn to deal with it. In a now-shared office with Rokath, two males sat across from me, one with a bloody lip, the other leaking crimson from his nose.

“Alright. So who started this one?” I sighed, grasping a stick of charcoal and dragging parchment in front of me. Rokath wanted detailed reports on all instances—they’d ensure all were treated fairly and provided proof should any of the lingering detractors protest.

“He did,” they both said, pointing at the other.

I fought the urge to roll my eyes. “Who was it over?” I asked instead.

They glanced at each other, seeming to have a silent conversation. “Maariya,” one finally admitted.

“Fucking Fates,” I muttered under my breath. “You do realize she has no interest in either of you, right?”

“But–” one started, and I held up my hand.

“The Halálhívó and I are prepared to introduce a no fraternizing policy if behavior like this continues.” There was more than a hint of threat in my tone. “Save this energy for the battles to come. Do I make myself clear?”

Fuck, I am really starting to sound like my mate.

“Yes, Szélhámos,” they muttered, refusing to look at me or each other.

“Dismissed,” I ordered, and they rose, offering me salutes before disappearing into the hall beyond.

I finished my notes, then slipped it on the top of the pile of others. In the war camp, there were no reports and punishment was delivered with a heavy hand. But here, with the structure and formality, the rules had to be a bit different.

As I refilled my glass of water, a knock on the door caught my attention. “Enter,” I called out, hoping that another group hadn’t been caught fighting or fucking.

Rokath minded the latter far more, constantly grumbling about how they were wasting their energy on their sexual partners—sometimes in multiples at once, not that I was judging—when they should be honing their focus on killing Angels.

Every time, I had to press my lips together to smother a laugh at his hypocrisy.

I wasn’t going to deter him from making me come, though.

Now that we were regularly clean, we coupled every day.

My core clenched at the thought of how he’d taken me in front of the windows again last night.

I banished my lustful thoughts when Rapp opened the door. I leaped to my feet and raced to pull it the rest of the way open.

“I can fucking do it,” he groused, but I only laughed. While he was nearly healed, we still treated him like a youngling for sheer amusement.

“Can’t have this heavy door setting you back a few days. You’ll never draw a bow again at this rate.”

“Quit reminding me of that,” he sighed, passing me and taking one of the previously occupied seats. “I’m going crazy. I need to do more than sit around.”

“If that’s how you feel, you can take over here for me. I’d rather not discuss another sexual encounter with the soldiers today,” I offered in a rush. There was no way I’d pass up an opportunity to escape this torture.

He snorted a laugh. “Not a chance.”

I collapsed backward into my chair, raking a hand over my face like it would claw away the stress. “How do I convince them to stop all this nonsense?”

Rapp grinned, flicking his tongue over the ring in his lip. “You don’t. Most are young and all of them are forced to be celibate when they are interacting with females at close range all day. They just need to work it out of their system.”

“Punching each other is not the way to do that,” I sighed, tucking my hair behind my pointed ears.

“You should have seen Rokath, Xannirin, and me when we were all here. The females in Fured didn’t stand a chance,” Rapp laughed, clutching his torso for support.

At that moment, Rokath opened the door and entered our office, Grem and Zeec trotting behind him. “I heard my name. What are you saying about me now?”

Rapp put his hand up to the side of his mouth and leaned toward me. “What is it, if I say his real name too many times he is magically summoned?”

I pressed my fist to my lips to stem the flow of laughter.

“I heard that too,” Rokath grumbled, rounding the desk and planting a kiss on my forehead. He lingered there, surveying the papers splayed out across the wood.

“You were meant to,” Rapp quipped, tugging one out of Rokath’s line of sight and reading what I had written.

Rokath rolled his eyes and snatched it back. “Since you’re out of bed, I could use your help.”

“Thank fuck,” Rapp said, bracing his hands on the arms of the chairs and rising.

“What about me? Someone please save me from this,” I begged, desperately flicking my attention between the two males.

Rapp smirked like he was enjoying my distress. “Leadership isn’t so fun after all?”

“No,” I admitted freely in the reckless hope it would get me the fuck out of this office.

“Would you rather finish your work here or listen to battle plans?” Rokath asked, raising a brow.

My lips flattened into a thin line. The only thing I liked less was Rokath’s war strategy sessions, mostly because they spoke about people dying with such nonchalance. It was becoming harder for me to attend them the closer I grew to the females.

Rokath and Rapp had told me time and time again not to, that it would only end up hurting me in the end. But I couldn’t help it. I knew the reality of war was death and loss and impossible decisions.

Yet I’d never felt friendship and support like I had in the past few weeks. Kiira and I spent hours together in our leisure time, along with the others from Kiira’s trusted circle. I was truly blooming into who I was always supposed to be.

That was why I trained with vigor and ensured everyone else was too. If I could prevent even one from dying, I’d snatch the opportunity.

“I’ll remain here,” I finally groaned with a dread-filled glance at all the papers in front of me.

Rapp chuckled and patted a stack. “Have fun with that.”

I made a face at him, only amusing him further. They made to leave, but I stopped them. “Wait! At least leave the dogs to keep me company.” He didn’t have to know that I’d soon have Kiira too. The more the merrier, especially when I was frustrated to the point of tears.

“I can read your mind, you know,” Rokath warned.

“You could not, you know,” I shot back.

“You two are doing the mind speaking foreplay again, aren’t you?” Rapp teased.

Rokath pinned him with a glare. “Kiira will be arriving shortly so Assyria will have some company.”

“Traitor,” I huffed under my breath but loud enough for Rokath to hear.

Something flashed across Rapp’s expression before he smoothed it. A hint of curiosity rose in me. They had been spending a lot of time together lately too…

Rokath’s fingers flexed before he relented. “Fine.”

I resisted the urge to throw my hands into the air, professing my victory. “Come,” I called out to them, wasting no time in claiming our pets. Grem and Zeec trotted over, tails wagging. “Who are my good boys,” I cooed, scratching them both behind the ears.

Rapp chuckled as he and Rokath left me behind to deal with these horny males while they made future battle plans.

But before the door closed completely, Kiira breezed through in her typical fashion, long hair streaming freely behind her, carrying a plate of fresh fish and cheese.

Unlike me, she still wore fine clothes when she wasn’t training, and today, she sported a black dress with a deep neckline.

The fabric was thicker than what she’d worn at Gyor Palace, which with how cold it was, especially with the bitter coastal wind, it was a necessity.

She shivered as she plopped down across from me. “Can you stoke the fire?”

“Sure,” I replied, taking another break from my desk and throwing some new logs into the hearth. With the added warmth, Grem and Zeec slunk to the stone in front of it and flopped over. I shook my head and returned to my chair, selecting a fat hunk of cheese and popping it into my mouth.

“Here’s the latest,” I said, offering Kiira a report on training progress of the priestess-turned-warriors written by the Százados.

She scanned it while she chewed. “Fantastic improvements from the last one. I think they’ve really taken to their new roles. I don’t see why anyone could find fault with them.”

I slumped back, relieved by her comments. “Blessed by the Giver.”

Kiira chuckled and handed it back to me. “We truly are, though. The magic the females possess is powerful, and wielded on the battlefield like Rokath intends, we’ll be unstoppable.”

“So are you coming with us?” I asked her.

She nodded. “I know mine isn’t as useful, but I think being there, offering support for the faith, will be more of a help than a hindrance at least.”

I regarded her for a moment, weighing the words I wanted to ask. My suspicions had been growing, but I wondered if she’d even admit it to me, given that Rokath and I shared a deep mental connection. I risked it anyway.

“And so you can stay close to Rapp?”