Page 7 of Horns of Wicked Ebony (Deathcaller Duet #2)
When he released me, his attention turned to Rapp. “We’ll have to send a unit out to initiate a small skirmish to capture some females. The sooner we can start training Assyria, the better.”
Again nausea rose. More Demons would die because of me. Yet if I could mimic the form of an Angel, sneak into their camp, and rescue Banand and Zurronar, thousands upon thousands—if not millions—of lives could be saved.
The choice was an easy one.
“Aye, we’ll discuss it with the Parancsok this evening.
By then they should have rallied their scouts to depart at nightfall.
Hopefully in the morning we’ll have a better map of their camp.
Then it will put your mind at ease with Assyria,” Rapp replied, drumming his fingers on the table.
He picked up one of the stones on the map and tossed it back and forth.
I grinned at Rapp, and he offered me a subtle dip of his chin. Even though he was Rokath’s best friend, he’d always supported me too. “Where do we begin?”
“We’ll start with lessons in Angelic. While I hope that you won’t be caught, if you are, you need to speak the language so you aren’t discovered in your disguise,” Rokath explained. It made sense, after all. They wouldn’t speak the common tongue to someone who looked like them.
“What should we call her magic? It needs a proper name,” Rapp butted in. “Especially for a power so useful and so cool.”
A little giggle escaped me, and Rokath rolled his eyes. “Now is not the time.”
“Psh,” Rapp replied, slapping his leg. “It’s as good of a time as any. Besides, we could use a little fun.”
“I’m inclined to agree with Rapp.” I flashed Rokath a saccharine smile. “What about Facer?”
Rapp shook his head. “No, that’s too bland. You need something more exciting. ”
Rokath grumbled something about how ridiculous we were before stealing a hunk of cheese from me. I scoffed and swiped at him, but he popped it into his mouth before I could retrieve it.
“Forger?” Rapp suggested, lifting a brow and breaking our staredown.
“No, it sounds too much like the monetary laws.” I tapped my chin, poised to snap a hand toward my plate should Rokath attempt to steal more of my food. “Changer? Since I’m changing my body?”
“Imposter,” Rokath huffed, finally adding his opinion to the mix. “I gave you the name during our very first interaction. That is what it shall be.”
“I like it. It’s badass. Just like you will be once you master it, Assyria,” Rapp grinned, flashing his sharp teeth. Then, he leaned forward and snatched a handful of blackberries for himself from my plate.
“Hey!” I protested, smacking his arm. “There’s food over there if you two are hungry.”
“But it’s so much more fun to steal it from you when you’re acting like a starved dog,” Rapp grinned, popping one into his mouth.
I rolled my eyes.
Rokath dragged a blank sheet of parchment toward him, brows pinched with focus. “Now if we can return to the matter at hand. Assyria only has a short time to learn a complex language.”
Rapp shoved back from the table. “Aye, I’ll let you teach in peace. If you feel like killing each other, just go for a quick fuck instead.”
I snorted, and Rokath growled at Rapp’s backside as he jammed his hands in his pockets and strolled from the tent. His innocent whistles drifted toward us for a moment longer before silence reigned again.
I quickly snatched back my stolen fruit and shoved a few into my mouth. Then, I turned to Rokath, our gazes colliding like a lightning strike. “I’m ready. Teach me.” The words were breathier than I meant them to be, but when he looked at me like that…
His heated burgundy eyes swept over me, sending a shiver of desire down my spine. With the backs of his knuckles, he brushed my cheek and tucked a lock of hair behind my pointed ear. “If at any time it feels like it’s too much, tell me. We will find another way.”
“I will,” I promised. “But I want to help. I want to prove that I am useful to those males.” I dipped my head toward the outside world.
“Then that is what we shall do.”
Rokath traced the letters of the Angelic alphabet onto the paper, covering the sound of each.
While he didn’t expect me to have to read it, he wanted me to know them just in case signs were present in the camp that might assist in guiding me to the prisoners.
We spent the remainder of the afternoon covering basic phrases.
When the sun finally dipped, we broke for dinner.
Rokath, Rapp, and I ate together in one of the massive food tents.
As we entered, I held my head high, showing the males there was nothing wrong with me being unveiled and among them.
The stares were even worse now that they knew my name and who I was to Rokath.
Before, I’d been “the fallen” and rarely appeared alone to fetch food, both from Rokath’s protectiveness and my own desire to keep out of their path.
The H carved into my wrists itched under their scrutiny.
I had to embrace my role. I refused to falter under their judgment. Because I was worthy of a place here, I was worthy of the sacrifice Rokath had made for me, and I was going to ensure the Demons won this war in whatever way I could.
Because if I died doing this, at least it would be on my own fucking terms.