Page 96 of Horns of Wicked Ebony (Deathcaller Duet #2)

She approached, tracing it with her finger.

“Fates…” she whispered, her eyes growing distant.

I studied her for any sign that a vision might be overtaking her.

I wouldn’t let her collapse and injure herself against the hard floor.

Rapp seemed to have the same thought, because he eased closer.

“There hasn’t been an Angel-Demon pairing in at least two thousand years. Their offspring was the first Seer…”

Rapp swore under his breath.

“I thought there had never been one?” I bit out.

She shook her head. “Our grandfather never allowed the writings to be made public, but I still retain copies in my library at Varbad Temple. The insight in them was important to my magic.”

“So that’s what kicked off the Age of Prophecy?” I clarified. It was a subject I hadn’t paid much attention to, preferring to study texts of war and battle since it was more important for my role in society.

She nodded, twisting her unbound locks around her finger and securing them at the base of her neck.

“That Age is still ongoing, alongside the Age of War. One of those books foretells the end of both, though the words are vague enough that I’ve never been able to make sense of them, save for that there is an end. ”

“Do they happen together?” Assyria prodded, leaning forward.

“No.” Kiira stepped away from Banand at last. “Where is your mate? ”

“With the other prisoners at the moment,” he grumbled, his tone more bitter than many of the potions brewed by the healers.

“Which is where she will stay until you can convincingly promise us that she will not betray us to the Angels,” I growled, crossing my arms. “Can she listen to us right now?”

“No,” Banand snapped. “We both keep our mental barriers firmly in place. Not to mention I think in Demonic and she thinks in Angelic. Neither of us exactly want this. We both have a lot to hide from one another.”

He met each of our gazes in turn, his eye contact strong and steady as if he were imploring us to see his truth.

“Unfortunately, the Halálhívó is right. But this was what we were going to challenge you with to earn your place as a Parancsok. Both of you,” Rapp sighed, rubbing the back of his neck.

“We can do it,” Zurronar promised after a moment’s consideration. “We’ve treated them far better than they treated us, at least. Our actions alone should tell them we’re not the animals they think we are.”

“Tell no one of your bond,” I warned Banand.

“Trust me, I won’t.” His jaw was set hard, and his focus drifted to the floor.

Assyria’s shoulders softened, along with her expression.

And fuck if I didn’t feel bad for him too, just a little bit.

I’d gone insane those first months with Assyria, fighting myself over the primal need to protect her, to possess her, to claim her.

Banand had suffered tremendously. First, being forced to create a plague to wipe out his brethren. Then, a mating bond with his sworn enemy snapping into place.

“Will you make an oath to the Reaper?” I challenged him.

“Anything,” he swore, finally lifting his gaze. The desperation in his eyes hit me like a blow. He wanted to be believed, to be trusted. The guilt he had initially carried made much more sense now. And why he was struggling to use his magic.

I drew a dagger from my hip and returned to the piles of bones I’d prepared for Assyria’s throne. Banand did the same and stood across from me. Without hesitating, I cut deep into my palm and let the garnet droplets splatter over the white.

“You will obey mine and the Szélhámos’s command, and all those we appoint to speak in our name,” I began.

Banand sliced deeper, spilling more of his blood over the Angel remnants.

To his credit, he didn’t even flinch or give them a second thought.

“I swear upon my life, the life of my mate, that I will not speak of my bond outside of this circle of knowledge. I take full responsibility for her actions, and should either of us betray the Demon cause, let the Reaper’s eye fall over us. ”

I held out my hand, and he clasped it. I squeezed harder and sent more ruby splattering from both of us. What better way to seal this oath than into my mate’s throne?

“May the Reaper curse you should you break this oath.”

He knelt, resting his forehead on his bent arm. “Halálhívó, my sword has always been and will always be yours. The Szélhámos’s too. For I proclaimed her as such, she will always have my devotion.”

I jerked my head, and Assyria hopped down from her position atop a workbench and joined me. He lifted his gaze and planted it firmly on my mate. “Allow me to remain part of your guard, Szélhámos, and I swear I will give my life for yours should the time come.”

“Convince Araquiel to join us, and you shall keep your spot,” she told him. The command in her voice, the confidence in her posture, the curl of her lips made my dick harden.

“Aye, Szélhámos. You have my word.” With that, he rose. “If you’ll give me leave, I’d like to speak with her now.”

I looked past him and leveled a heavy gaze on Zurronar. “ Your fate is tied to theirs. Take the High Priestess with you. If you want the title of Parancsok, your next actions will make or break our decision on the matter.”

“Yes, sir,” he said, shoving to his feet and giving us a salute.

“Dismissed,” I grumbled, since we were back to formalities now. Kiira dipped her chin to me, affirming she knew what to do. She’d be the best to observe this, given how in tune she was with the Fates.

The three of them swept into the chilly afternoon sun, leaving Assyria, Rapp, and me alone. I pinched the bridge of my nose and let out a long breath. “Fuck I was not expecting that.”

“Nor I,” Rapp grumbled, easing to the ground beside the half-finished group of bones we’d been working on. I joined him a moment later, cursing again when I realized the adhesive had hardened completely.

“I can warm it again,” Assyria offered, reaching for the bucket. I handed it to her, noting the tension around her mouth and eyes. Clearly this news had unnerved us all.

“We’ll figure it out, little imposter. There is nothing to fear,” I reassured her as she walked away.

She dropped the container in front of the hearth, spinning it in a steady circle so the heat of the flames licked against the edges.

Without looking at me, she replied, “I’m not afraid.

Just…I don’t know. What if we’ve already killed a hundred pairs like Banand and Araquiel before they ever knew the other existed? ”

Her throat worked like she was raking it across the coals. “How can we continue down this path of complete extermination, knowing the bonds can cross races? Why do we have to slaughter an entire people because of their beliefs?”

“With the Angels, it’s always been kill or be killed.”

“But what if it doesn’t have to be anymore? The myth of us is spreading…and our campaign to make the Angels think one of their ow n is betraying them is too. We could do more to end the war than just killing.”

She wasn’t wrong, but the Angel’s beliefs were so entrenched, I wasn’t sure what she was suggesting would be at all possible.

“We tried diplomacy for a long time. So long as Koron Stadiel and Korona Iaoth sit atop the Angel’s throne, this is our only option.”

A wave of dejected sadness swept down our bond. She sighed, hefting the adhesive and returning it to us. The stench overpowered my nostrils immediately. “Then we will continue until they are dead.”

She settled on the floor, bracing her head on her folded hands. Slumped inward, she watched Rapp and I work with quiet intensity. Yet her mind was a riot of emotion, and her thoughts leaked down our bond. I wanted nothing more than to comfort her, to reassure her, that everything would be okay.

But I couldn’t promise that.

This was war.

So the three of us remained silent, save for coordinating the final pieces of Assyria’s throne, late into the night, when we gathered our gear and departed on our next mission.