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***
Three Centuries Earlier
Sharp spice overpowered the metallic tang of blood as the three cousins sat in a potent silence. The pot of soup rolled to a low boil, so much like the simmering tension building on their continent. All were reeling from the occurrences of late while they waited for their di
The Angels had increased the frequency of their attacks since Koron Stadiel slaughtered his competitors to seat himself on the Angel throne. The Kral and his two brothers had stood by while more and more skirmishes took place. His nephew with the tattooed head knew better than anyone just how bloodthirsty the Angels were. The latest attack was what had him calling the others to meet in his palatial home in Uzhhorod.
As he looked down at his hands, bits of dried ruby flaked off. He hadn’t bathed yet, wanting the two to see the full impact of what he had endured. They both eyed his blood-soaked form as he reached for a glass of scale—a spicy alcohol that he both loved and rarely indulged in—and drank it to the dregs.
“The time has come, Xa
Xa
That it was finally here was still a shock to him.
Their female cousin shifted in her seat, rearranging the sweep of her dress. Like everything she wore, it was feminine, flirty, and showed off her tan skin. She pi
“Aye, Kiira. They deserve it,” Rokath rumbled. Her father had beaten Kiira to the brink of death only a week prior. The bruises on her ribs, arms, and face were still a fat purple. Sweeping his attention over the marks made him grind his teeth again. His uncle’s actions had only further solidified his plan to slaughter the three eldest members of House Vrak.
Rokath was protective by nature, and anyone who hurt those he deeply cared for faced his infamous wrath. Even now, all the nobility was firmly aware of just how cruel he could be if pressed the wrong way.
It was still far better than their fathers’ tempers.
Xa
Then, he pi
Their cousin flashed her gaze between the two, brows pinching together as her mind worked over the proposition. Her mother—a commoner—had not been the wife of her father. Despite her shameful status, she’d grown up under his too-watchful eye with riches and a modicum of influence. To raise her to the position of High Priestess was an enormous leap.
“But I’m a bastard,” she protested, like she could sway Xa
“We’ll bury your bloodline like we’ll erase Rokath’s name from common memory,” Xa
“I don’t think that’s possible,” she replied with a frown. “Besides, I’m not worthy.”
“Well, I say you are. And I will be the Kral.” A cu
Kiira’s teeth raked over her bottom lip. “The Kral, the Halálhívó, the High Priestess. The Speaker, the Caller, the Seer.”
As a Seer, the Fates offered her direct access to their weavings, unlike the Angel Seers who only glimpsed what could be through their Goddess. She was the only Demon in recorded history to be given such a gift, the uniqueness similar to her cousins. Their fathers’ powers were all duplicates of prior members of House Vrak.
“Exactly,” Xa
Across from him, Rokath shifted in his seat. Attention was not something he handled well. He much preferred to remain private about his life and his accomplishments. To be thrust into the notice of the masses was not something he desired. Every action picked apart by clueless, primped nobles with nothing better to do. Every decision questioned by those lacking the knowledge to comment on the matter at hand. Every set of eyes on him, judging, seeking weaknesses or shortcomings.
No, he’d rather remain in the shadows.
Another smile pressed Xa
“You went into the beyond again?” Rokath groused, reaching for the half-empty bottle of the spicy alcohol and pouring himself another glass. Irritation nipped at him as he recalled how many days it had taken for his cousin to return to their world on his previous trip. He’d made Xa
Clearly, he’d gone against Rokath’s request.
“I did,” he said slowly, gauging Rokath’s reactions. By the tense set of his jaw, Xa
“And I know exactly how we’re going to beat back the Angels.”
That seemed to cool some of the embers of his rage, as Xa
“How?” Rokath asked with no inflection whatsoever, but the stillness of his posture told Xa
Xa
“So we declare war on the Angels then?” Rokath clarified, his head tilting ever so slightly to the side.
“Not quite. We’re not ready for that yet. It’s true that Koron Stadiel will not stop until all Demons are dead, but for now he can be mitigated. First, we need the nobles on our side. They have far more influence in the countryside than we do, and they’ll help us shape society to serve the end goal. Then, we start bolstering our defenses,” Xa
“And what is that?” Kiira asked after sipping from her wine glass.
Xa
The question hung in the air like smoke—stifling, inescapable, and already clouding their futures.
“For that to happen, we need more bodies,” Rokath growled. Their fathers had allowed the military to shrink dramatically while they ruled, preferring to spend coin on their own indulgences while the populace suffered. Poverty had bloomed. The people were growing restless. None of that would serve Xa
“Which is where Kiira comes in.” Xa
While he didn’t head their forces—yet—Rokath had studied military strategy since his first day at the academy as a youngling. He’d always had a mind for it, which complimented his cousin’s cu
“Who else?” Xa
Kiira blew out a long breath, twisting the end of her long, straight, hair around her finger. “What exactly do you have in mind?”
Xa
“You want worship, not devotion. That’s not faith, not as we practice it now. That’s obedience,” Kiira pointed out, withdrawing and sinking back into her seat.
“We need their obedience to make the necessary changes to protect us—to protect them,” Xa
Their warrior-cousin, still covered in blood, nodded. “He’s right. In the military, too many questions delay action, and that often comes with severe consequences. Implicit compliance can be the difference between life and death.”
Xa
Kiira stiffened more and more as he continued speaking of their new society. Finally, she sat forward, interrupting the future Kral. “I don’t like how this is unfolding. Surely there is another way than removing autonomy from females?”
“Don’t frame it that way, Kiira,” Xa
Kiira dragged her palms out of her cousin’s, looking across the steam at Rokath’s blurred form. “What do you think?”
He rubbed his temples, drawing her attention to the blood caked on his scalp. “Xa