Page 97 of Horns of Wicked Ebony (Deathcaller Duet #2)

A chill crept into my awareness, and without thinking, I shifted closer to Rokath, seeking his warmth.

Yet when I reached the spot he should have been, nothing brushed my fingers.

Cracking open an eye, I realized his muscled form was missing from our bed.

The barest hint of moonlight slipped through the curtain covering our window.

I sat upright, a shiver wracking my frame as my skin was exposed to the cold air.

I glanced toward the bathing chamber door, finding it open and the room beyond empty.

Where has he gone?

Tapping into the magic of our bond, I sought him out.

A faint thread tugged me upward, and I craned my neck, realizing he must have gone outside.

I dressed, grabbing my gloves on the way out of the door.

I closed it quietly behind me, not wanting to disturb the other officers in the hall.

On silent feet, I made my way to the exterior stairs that led from this floor straight to the ground.

The night guard nodded to me and opened the door to outside.

Yet instead of taking them down, I called upon my wings and sailed higher .

Air froze in my lungs as I beheld my mate.

The white of the stars and moon bathed him in a glow, sharply contrasted with the black of the night on his other side.

His severe features were cast in haunting relief—the tear in his ear, the heavy set of his brow, the slight crook in his nose.

Gingerly, I lowered myself to the roof beside him.

He didn’t look away from whatever held his attention in the distance.

“Can’t sleep?” I asked, banishing my wings. Pulling on my gloves, I settled beside him so our shoulders touched.

“Not tonight,” he murmured. “Not when I have so many questions and so few answers.”

“What’s bothering you?” I wrapped myself around his arm.

With a sigh, he leaned into me too. “Rapp, Kiira, Banand, Araquiel, Xannirin…”

“I see my name is absent from that list,” I teased, hoping to lighten his mood.

He merely grunted in response. “For once.”

“Rapp and Kiira will make it safely to their outpost. And she didn’t have another vision before they left, so that’s a good sign.

Nor have we heard that she’s had another,” I reminded him.

The mates that had been separated struggled, but they knew they served a higher cause.

That didn’t stop my heart from aching for the female who sobbed in my arms after half a day with that third of our army gone.

When I’d offered to let her yell at some of the males who saw her as weak for doing so, she perked up.

Warmth spread through my limbs at the memory.

The priestesses-turned-warriors were vicious in their own right, and more than one had dressed down their male counterparts in a way that left me entirely impressed.

“I know,” he finally replied. “I’ve just never been good at drowning out the voices once they start screaming. ”

“Is there anything I can do to help tonight?” All was still, and even the wind didn’t blow through the trees, relieving them of their powdery burdens.

“Just sit with me,” he said, an ache in his voice I wanted to grasp and soothe.

I scooted closer so more of my body pressed into his. Freeing his arm, he draped it around me instead and brushed his lips over my temple. I wrapped my arms around his waist, snuggling deeper into his warmth.

A small smile tugged at my lips. How odd it was to show each other such unrestrained affection when we’d been at each other’s throats over the smallest infraction during the summer.

A realization dawned on me then. “Is tonight the new year?”

“Aye,” Rokath confirmed. The moon hung fat and heavy in the sky, seeming so much closer with how high we were in the mountains that snatched for the stars like they were a delicious treat.

“Why aren’t we celebrating then?” I asked him.

“With everything that’s happened recently, I forgot until I looked at the clock when I couldn’t sleep,” he admitted.

“What did you do last year?” The new year was always a source of joy in the Demon Realm.

In Stryi, the whole village took a week off of work, gathering in the square for revelry.

Dancers, fire breathers, elaborate displays, and charms were abundant.

It was one of the few times I left the estate while married to Vagach, simply because he headed many of the ceremonies we held during that time to venerate the Fates.

Yet I’d always been kept away from the crowds, perched like an ornament far above them. Exactly how Vagach had liked me to be.

“We were trying to maintain what ground we could as the plague swept through,” Rokath deadpanned.

Guilt gnawed at my gut. Of course, they had been. I’d been grieving the loss of my family and hadn’t even left the manor, despite how Vagach had attempted to coerce me into attending. After I collapsed on the lawn, unable to carry myself forward, he’d sent me back inside.

“This year will be better,” I pronounced, hoping that the Fates would hear me and make it so.

“I already made my wish,” Rokath mumbled.

I craned my neck to look up at him, finding his burgundy eyes swirling with a mix of emotion. “Are you going to tell me what it was?”

“No,” he said, looking forward again. “You wouldn’t understand.”

I scoffed and squeezed his ribs as punishment. “Why tell me you made one then?”

“For that reaction right there.” He met my gaze once again. This time, his expression was full of smug amusement.

I rolled my eyes. “Well I haven’t chosen mine yet.”

Rokath released his hold on me. Spine protesting, I straightened. “Go ahead and do it now. Then we’ll tell each other.”

“Okay but no spying in my mind.” I wagged my finger at him, then rolled out my shoulders and faced the moon.

But as I sat there, sifting through all my desires, I found it difficult to discern which I wanted to come true the most.

The end of the war, yes, but what if wishing for that caused us to lose?

Continuing progress with solidifying the female’s place in the army? That seemed too weak even though it was a mighty goal.

That Rokath and I’s love would never end? Yet that was already true, simply because we were fated, woven, planned to be together for now and in all the lives to come.

There were a dozen things I could wish for others. But for the new year, we were supposed to be selfish. Supposed to set ourselves up for the next four seasons.

Glory wasn’t important. Infamy bloomed like a Bordova rose in the summer. But what did I crave in the quiet of the night? When I let myself believe anything was possible?

Freedom.

The word emerged like a fabled sea monster from the depths of the abyss. Yet it was what I’d always truly wanted. I had some now, far more than ever before. But I wasn’t rid of the shackles that held me back.

The trauma of my marriage to Vagach. The oppression of our society and how it had silenced me. The fear of my magic being discovered and what would happen to me once it was. More and more layers of all the ways I’d had to hide, had to survive, had to protect my heart from loss after loss.

Even now, I held back with many I wanted closer simply because I didn’t want that acute ache to tatter my soul even more. Death was the reality of war, after all.

Rokath had suffered too, but his was different than mine. He’s always been free. Powerful. Esteemed. Feared .

I stared at the heavens, tugging on the stars as if I could command the Fates to look down upon me. And then, I spoke to our deities.

“Weaver, Giver, Reaper, I wish for freedom to embrace my power without limits. To continue to find the strength to survive, even to thrive, as I claim the destiny woven for me. To not harden against the horrors to come, even though the losses will be difficult. May this year bring further healing, love, and the courage to reclaim everything that was taken from me.”

Closing my eyes, I allowed the feeling to fill me to the brim. When I was close to exploding with it, I let it go, sending it out into the world and hoping it would return to me .

“This was mine,” Rokath spoke into my mind, letting the memory of the moment flood me.

“Weaver, Giver, Reaper, give me the strength and wisdom to protect those I love. Ensure no further harm comes to the mate you blessed me with. Let victory and peace come to our realm at last.”

His emotions consumed me too—the vastness of his devotion, the terror of my potential absence, the craving for peace.

I understood everything he desired. Because more than anything, I wanted him to live beyond the war too, so that we could carve a slice of serenity far away from conflict and strife.

I crawled into his lap, and he enveloped me.

A spicy, masculine scent called me home.

His muscles flexed as he dragged me closer, nearly robbing me of air.

“You’re my reason for fighting, Assyria.

You’re the reason I begged the Fates for the end.

” He spoke the words like a haunted, desperate prayer.

“This will be our year.” I grabbed his forearms and squeezed, gently rocking in his hold.

He planted a kiss on the side of my neck. “Let’s go back to bed. I’m ready to sleep now.” His hot breath ghosted across my ear, and his hardness grew and dug into my backside.

“Only after you beg for my forgiveness for listening in on my thoughts when I told you not to,” I breathed, nails digging into his skin.

A soft laugh huffed against my shoulder. “That is not how this works.” In one smooth motion, Rokath lifted us off the ground and threw me over his shoulder.

A giggle escaped me as I smacked his back. “Put me down!”

“Never. I’ll never let you go, little imposter.” Wings sprouted, and with gentle ease he flew us to the base of the building. At the doors to the weapons storage, two soldiers jolted into pristine posture, startled by our sudden appearance.

“At ease,” Rokath told them. “And get lost.”