It was an ambush.

Of course it was, but Zar had been expecting The Reaper to face him with an elite squad of fighters, them dueling it out like men. There was little honor among Nayanors, yet the one thing a man had to uphold was his personal honor and that was not relying on cheap tactics. Especially in battles that mattered, that were over a principle.

As soon as he and his warriors entered the massive throne room, The Reaper's men opened fire upon them from both sides. The first moment was complete chaos, as shooting plasma cannons inside the Black Hall was so unthinkable that the truth refused to register.

Most of the structure around them was stone, except for the living quarters that had all been automated and reinforced with metals.

In the mayhem, Zar allowed himself a mad grin. The Reaper feared him so much he was ready to bring down the entire Hall upon their heads to kill him.

"Take cover!" he roared, hating that the warlord had made him break away from his call to Ashley. "Kill those cowardly bastards!"

After the first confusion passed, Zar saw that The Reaper wasn't as insane as he'd thought at first. The plasma cannons were devastating weapons, mostly mounted on battleships, and to shoot them indoors was purely absurd. The warlord had, however, tuned the weapons down. Specifically, they gave short bursts whose range wasn't enough to reach the walls. It was still dangerous in case a shot went wide or the warrior wielding it panicked, but it wasn't suicidal.

Afar, Zar could see The Reaper look on with interest. The deceptive calm on the warlord's face only showed how deeply he'd snapped. There was no care in his eyes anymore. Zar doubted it mattered to the warlord whether he lived or died, as long as they both died.

Such anger, Zar thought with disdain. Such loathing. What a waste.

Even as he said that, the harbinger knew he was equally guilty of it, but his anger stemmed from the fact that The Reaper had stooped lower than low. To threaten Ashley, to try and influence him by imprisoning his fated, that was unheard of.

Before, fighting through the ranks of The Reaper's bodyguards, news had come in. The other harbingers in the Hall had finally taken up arms too and now there were battles all over the Hall. The Reaper knew he couldn't carry on ruling the Hall of his ancestors.

He'd pushed them too far. Threatening females, leaving Nayanors out during the long night, the cowardly way he'd run from battle with Zar before... he was a dead man walking. And Zar was determined to be the man who killed him.

The wounds he'd suffered at the hands of the warlord's bodyguards before were still tender, but he ignored the pain. Pain, like anger, was nothing to him when it came to more important matters and right now, the only thing he could think of was Ashley.

The last communication hadn't been long. He didn't know how far Roagh and his fated were, which meant he had to trust his second-in-command to keep his mate alive.

Zar redoubled his efforts. The best he could do for Ashley was to end the battle before she reached him as the noose The Reaper had crafted was closing around their necks, drawing everyone together in the throne room.

"Zar!" The Reaper bellowed from across the throne room as the harbinger focused on dodging the terrible plasma shots that were coming his way.

It seemed every warrior carrying one who wasn't pinned down by his men was targeting Zar, trying to bring him down with sheer firepower. They knew he couldn't dodge all of them indefinitely. Sooner or later his concentration was going to slip, just for a moment, and that would be his end.

With a grim determination, Zar took them down one by one, showing no mercy to cowards who didn't dare to face him with a proper weapon.

The handle of his sword was hot in his hands, that was how close by the plasma shots were flying.

"It's over, Zar!" The Reaper called again with obvious relish. "Lay down your weapons and I might be merciful! I might even open the gates for your people, if there's anything left of them by now!"

Gritting his teeth, the harbinger paid him no attention. He knew that the two days his people had spent outside the gates had to be horrendous. The storm was upon them in full force and the weather outside was worse than anyone could remember. The last time he'd set foot outside, Zar had watched how hail beat off chunks of the Black Hall's impregnable outer walls.

The fact that the warlord dared to remind him of that only fueled the rage he didn't want himself to feel. Zar hated that The Reaper had somehow managed to get to him. It was no longer just about Ashley and his people, it was far more personal than that.

The Reaper was everything he hated and for once, Zar wanted better for his species.

A plasma shot went by his shoulder so close Zar could feel his armor melt in the unreal heat. He had to work doubly hard now to make sure none of the shots damaged his sword or he was weaponless. Some of the warriors had actually began aiming for the two-handed sword in his hands to bring him down that way.

Zar cut off the head of the next coward who didn't deserve to be buried like a warrior.

There were fewer cannons now. His warriors were doing their share, pinned down now by The Reaper's final guards. As for the warlord himself, his taunts were getting desperate.

"That pretty mate of yours, Zar," he could hear The Reaper call. "When this is all over and I show her your charred corpse, do you think the gods will gift her to me? I hope there is an afterlife for our kind, so you can watch her grow big with my sons, see how I fuck her until she forgets your name."

The thought of Ashley in the hands of that monster was unbearable, but Zar still didn't turn his head in The Reaper's direction. All he needed was to make sure no one was going to shoot him in the back when he finally dealt with the warlord.

In past times, that had been a given. He couldn't understand how things had gone downhill so fast.

And then at last he was free to turn to The Reaper when the last cannon fell to the floor and Zar rounded on his true enemy. He could see the pale warlord bare his teeth in a vicious snarl. Finally, The Reaper drew his own sword, knowing there was no other end for it.

Without a word, Zar began walking his way. At that moment, a carrier arrived outside the throne room and Zar caught a glimpse of Ashley, climbing out of it with her face white from concern.

"Stay there!" he warned her, but it was too late.

Roagh and his warriors rushed to the throne room to aid his men and Ashley followed in their steps, unthinking.

The Reaper saw her.

"Kill her!" he roared. "Get that little bitch! She's the one who exposed us to the Union!"

Every warrior of his in the throne room turned and rushed for Ashley. Roagh only had a second to realize the fight wasn't as over as it had looked from outside and step back to protect her.

Zar was already moving, uncaring of what The Reaper thought of him for running away from him. All he could see were the blades in the hands of the enemies, closing in on Ashley. His fated screamed when a sword slashed down to cut her up, jumping out of the way as Roagh blocked the blow.

Zar saw his captain push her out of harm's way, Ashley crawling away from the fighters.

There were so many of them, so many enemies with the single purpose of killing her. Zar could see the hatred in their eyes. They were finally seeing the female who had managed to deal the first blow to their raids since as long as anyone could recall. The Reaper had been right in that. He didn't need to tell them she was his mate, their anger was already piqued by what she'd done.

He couldn't take his eyes off her fragile, defenseless body. Ashley wore no armor, had no weapon to defend herself with.

Zar crashed into the melee, shoulder first, knocking a warrior right onto Roagh's sword. The captain swung the man away, but was pushed back by the mass of bodies.

The harbinger didn't let anyone stop him like that. Like a rock in the midst of a wild river, he stood, unmoving, before Ashley. The sword in his hand cut furiously, blocking every blow that would have hit her in favor of those that grazed him.

His world narrowed down to blades and faces and the death cries of the men before him. Mercy never crossed Zar's mind as he killed ruthlessly, defending his mate. Behind him, Ashley kept backing away as he fought to give her room to move.

It bothered Zar that he couldn't see The Reaper anymore. If the warlord had escaped again, he would have to spend weeks trying to locate him in the impossible maze of the Black Hall.

The warriors facing him weren't just any fools with blades. The Reaper had cleverly left his best for last, no doubt hoping that they could bring him down before they ever crossed blades but Zar wasn't going to give him the satisfaction. He was already wounded. It should have been a stain on The Reaper's honor, but Zar doubted he had any.

The enemies were as vicious as he was and the reason why was clear.

"You are a traitor, Harbinger," one of them hissed. "Defending that female after what she did! Even if she is your mate, it can't be forgiven!"

"I will tell you the same as I told The Reaper," Zar answered, pushing the men back with a mighty swing of his sword. "Nayanors don't whine over life being more difficult for us. We already have a cruel home world and a lack of females. Those are the punishments the gods have seen fit to give us as challenges. If they add more, we only fight harder."

The warrior bristled at the insult, but Zar saw a shred of doubt in some of their eyes. What he spoke was the truth, after all, and he doubted any of them would have allowed their mates to be killed if they stood in his place.

It gave him hope that the other harbingers he'd have to deal with later would understand, but the men in front of him deserved – and would receive – no mercy from him.

One by one, they all fell to him, clutching broken bones and being quickly finished by Roagh and his warriors. The battle was ending, Zar could feel it. There was only The Reaper left and then he could –

"No!" Ashley screamed and a plasma shot rang out.

Zar turned just as the last of The Reaper's guards slumped to the ground before his feet, his torso cleaved in two.

Behind him, about twenty feet away, stood the warlord, his eyes as white as snow. The plasma cannon was in Ashley's shaking hands. His fated stood slowly, still keeping the warlord at aim.

The Reaper slowly lowered his ruined sword he'd used to block the plasma shot with. His scorched armor showed he hadn't completely succeeded, but the sword in his hand was melting, dripping to the floor like wax from a candle.

Zar could feel his blood boil. At the end of all things, the bastard was going to stab him in the back one more time.

Roagh and the others were coming closer with furious glares, growling, but Zar raised a hand for them to stop.

"Put the cannon down, Ashley," he said. "The Reaper is mine."

"But I could –" his fated protested, her gorgeous eyes flicking between him and the warlord. "He's right there.”

"He is," Zar agreed, his voice dark and shaking from rage. "And if I want to rule the Black Hall, I have to kill him fair and square. Put the cannon down."

With clear reluctance, Ashley obeyed. The Reaper looked on with such hatred in his eyes Zar could believe the warlord would wish him dead if he could.

"Pick a sword," Zar said calmly, seeing the surprise in The Reaper's eyes.

He gestured to the fallen warriors and the many blades laying in puddles of blood.

The Reaper didn't let him repeat that. The warlord picked up one of the swords that nearly matched his in height and width, holding it on guard with a cruel smile on his lips.

"Are you sure that was the best idea, Zar?" he asked. "The little bitch was right. You should have shot me. You think I'm weaker than you just because I don't venture off-world, but you might come to regret that very soon."

Zar saw the deep concern on Ashley's face as she looked at him, the plea loud and clear in her eyes.

Don't die.

Turning away from his mate, Zar stepped forward to meet his enemy.

"You are weak," he said quietly. "You have shown nothing besides that for two days now, but the clues have been there for years. Letting other men do your work while you enjoy the benefit of what your superior ancestors did before you. The men who ruled this Hall with iron fists are the reason you stand here now.

"I'll show you how little that means. My only sin is that I didn't do this a long time ago."

The Reaper glowered at him.

"You insolent fuck," he roared. "You think you can rule the Black Hall? The other harbingers will fight you for it, you'll see! You didn't avert any bloodshed, you only made sure our people will tear themselves apart now, fighting for the ultimate prize!"

"I don't think so," Zar said coldly, bringing his sword on guard. "Unlike you, I can take challenges."

The Reaper charged with a furious cry.

Zar met him head-on, their swords clashing together. The one the warlord had picked was a good one, given that it didn't break from the impact of his blade. They kept their swords locked, hateful gazes meeting over the cross of the blades. Zar felt his lips curling into a smirk.

"You think you've already won –” The Reaper told him, disgust filling his voice.

"Yes," Zar said.

He broke the lock, the sword in his hands cutting through the air with a powerful arch that The Reaper was barely able to block. The warlord struck at him then, faster than lighting and Zar was forced to consider that perhaps The Reaper hadn't been sitting idly while he flew the Foront to raids.

Suddenly it seemed he was fighting an entirely different man and the cruel grin widened on the warlord's lips.

"Always so arrogant," The Reaper gargled. "You should know how to respect your betters!"

The blow was so powerful it nearly knocked Zar off his feet, but he regained his footing with a grunt, feeling the wounds Ashley had cared for so gently opening up again. It occurred to Zar that The Reaper truly did fear him – but not as an inferior fighter, as an equal who didn't want to count on luck to survive. That was why he'd been trying so hard to gain an edge in the duel.

With the same unflappability he faced every new danger with, Zar grinned.

"You had me fooled," he admitted with relish. "You're wrong if you think that would upset me. It's been a while since someone posed an actual challenge for me. I will be glad to take the Black Hall from you, knowing this."

The Reaper said nothing now and Zar himself had nothing to add. The fight was past the point of trying to figure out the enemy's weaknesses, only to find there were none.

All that was left was to find out which one of them died.

The speed of their movements was faster now than the eye could follow. Zar didn't as much see The Reaper's next move as he sensed it the way he always did. Following the patterns that the warlord had used before, compensating for weak spots while trying to determine one of his – that was how true wars were supposed to be fought.

He hadn't felt elation like that in battle for a long time. That was the trouble with raids, since the defenders rarely posed enough of a threat.

In a way, Zar was glad for what Ashley had done. It meant his species no longer had the luxury to get comfortable and grow lazy. Now that they had to count for the chance that the Union might jump up anytime they came out of the wormhole, it meant the raids were going to be much harder.

The Reaper's eyes were wild when Zar saw an opening and his sword cut through the warlord's defenses. The Reaper jumped back, bleeding from the wound cut across his chest, teeth bared in a feral snarl. It was clear the fighting wouldn't last much longer.

Zar didn't look Ashley's way. He didn't think he could focus when even the thought of not being able to be with her was unthinkable.

"I will see you in the afterlife," The Reaper said. "Until then, I'll let your pretty mate warm my bed."

Zar didn't answer. The taunt showed that The Reaper was losing hope and that was his chance to hit him hard. The blades whirred through the air, clashing together once more, but this time Zar could feel The Reaper's strength giving in. His own wounds were open and bleeding but that didn't stop him.

With a roar, Zar pulled his blade out of the way, making The Reaper stumble when his support disappeared. The warlord didn't even have his footing before Zar's sword sliced clean through his midsection, splitting his body in half. The look of terrible surprise and fear was lost. The last expression on The Reaper's face was pure loathing, the same that had gotten him killed.

Zar watched his defeated enemy slump to the floor, blood trickling from his sword.

The Black Hall was his now, but it barely registered with him. All that mattered was that his fated, running into his arms, was his as well, forever.