Page 93 of Horns of Wicked Ebony (Deathcaller Duet #2)

She nodded, eyes trained downward. A male beside me cursed as he tripped on a hidden rock.

This was why we’d taken so long to approach.

Silence was our shield. Yet our return trip didn’t need to be as surreptitious.

Flickering flames atop the wall greeted us half an hour later. A yell went out, signaling our return.

Those at the top threw down ropes for Assyria to climb, while the rest of the Deathveiled called upon their wings to carry them to the top.

Unfortunately, my mate hadn’t quite figured out how to use the fake white wings of the Angels to propel herself.

I was more concerned with her learning the language since we had other methods of transport.

I followed behind her in solidarity. When we reached the top, Trol, Rapp, and Kiira were waiting.

“How did it go?” Rapp questioned the moment my boots struck the stone.

“We’ll see the reaction once we find the next group,” I told him, heading toward the guardhouse.

A fire burned in the hearth, chasing the chill from my skin.

I stood beside it, soaking the heat into my bones.

Assyria dropped her magic, shaking out her limbs like she was trying to rid herself of the lingering effects of impersonating our enemy.

With a groan, she collapsed at my feet like one of the hounds.

Skittering echoed down the stairs, and then Grem and Zeec bounded forward, barking a greeting.

“Oh, yes, come here,” Assyria cooed, dragging Zeec to the floor and curling around him like his fur was the key warming her body.

I rolled my eyes. “It wasn’t that cold. ”

“Speak for yourself,” she shot back, her voice muffled. Grem lay on her feet so she was nearly smothered by black fur.

Kiira joined her on the ground, and they had their own conversation while I turned my attention to Trol and Rapp.

“We’ll leave at first light–” Assyria made a noise of protest, but I ignored her. “We’ll leave at first light, Trol. Are you sure you’re alright with the numbers you’ll have?”

“Aye. We’ll have enough to manage whatever the Angels deem is necessary to throw at us,” he replied. “A forward scout returned while you were gone. There’s another exploratory group half a day ahead.”

“Good. We’ll give them the same treatment as here,” I announced. “What of the larger force’s position?”

“A day’s ride down into the valley. I think the closer groups are testing for weaknesses,” he ventured, rubbing the back of his neck.

That made sense. “Try to pick them off however you can. And whatever happens, holding the wall is of the utmost importance.”

“Yes, Halálhívó.”

I offered him my arm, and he grasped it. “We’ll try to get a few hours of rest before our departure.”

“Sleep well,” he told us, then disappeared the way Grem and Zeec had come to one of the chambers on a higher level. The soldiers were in the barracks just below the wall, with the ones who would continue on camped outside them.

“Come on,” I said to Assyria, who had straightened and was petting the greedy hounds.

“Ugh,” she protested as she rose to her feet. “I hope they put out the thick fur blankets.”

Our tent had been cold the past few nights, I’d give her that. “All the more reason to be close to one another if they didn’t. ”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Your dick pressed against my ass?”

“I’d like it to be more than pressed against it.”

“If you two are quite finished, I’d actually like to sleep,” Rapp interrupted us.

I shot him a glare. “Fine. Go,” I groused, sweeping my hand out.

He wasted no time bursting through the far door, Kiira right behind him.

The latent heat of the guard tower clung to me, but the stark cold outside slapped it off the moment we stepped outside.

Calling on our black, membranous wings, we leaped off the edge of the wall and metered our descent to the camp below.

With a thud, we landed in front of our tents.

“Goodnight,” Assyria bid Kiira and Rapp, tugging on my arm and leading me into our space before I could say anything to either of them.

“Eager tonight, are we?” I rumbled, gripping her waist.

“Tired,” she replied, unfastening her fur jacket. I tied the flaps closed behind us, noting the bag of rocks at the foot of the bed. Hovering a hand over them, I found them still warm. Assyria stripped to nothing but her underclothes. She held out her hand. “I need a shirt.”

“You know where to find them,” I told her as I began unbuckling my armor.

“So I can take whichever one I want?” she asked, cocking her head to the side.

Grumbling about her under my breath, I fetched her one that hadn’t been washed yet and tossed it her way. She shimmied it over her head, the hem kissing the tops of her knees. Then, she climbed into bed and huddled under the blankets.

The last of my armor secured, I stripped out of my sweaty fighting clothes and rinsed the blood from my hands.

By the time I crawled into bed beside her, Assyria’s eyes were closed and her breathing was soft and even.

With a sigh, I kissed her forehead, then blew out the candle on the bedside table.

Curling around her, I buried my nose in her hair. Yet as exhausted as I was, I couldn’t sleep. My mind raced over a thousand outcomes.

Through them all, one word remained. Repeated like it was the only word a raven could caw.

Sacrifice.