“My little place in the underworld,” Micah said.

I looked around, taking in the space. A big room with shiny, black flooring, dark red walls, a thick rug, velvet chaise lounges, a complete bar to the side, and a huge crystal chandelier hanging from the ceiling.

“Why did you bring me here?”

“Because I couldn’t think. I just teleported us out of there.” He dropped my hand but stayed close, his eyes on me. “Are you okay?” he asked me again.

His question brought more pressing matters to the front of my mind.

“I guess so.” I was okay but different. I could now feel the magic in me. Diana’s magic. I looked at my left hand. It still looked the same. The right one did too, though it was wrapped around the Spear of Justice.

It was too much—the sudden memories filling my mind, the feelings bursting in my chest. Even though I was only a lady of Diana, it was as if I knew everything about her.

Micah clutched my upper arms. “I know it’s too much. Believe me, I know.” He ran his hands up and down my arms. “If someone can get through this, if someone can make sense of all of it and keep moving, it’s you.”

I forced a smile, but the corner of my lips barely moved. “Thanks.”

Micah stepped back. “Do you want something to drink?”

I shook my head, and then noticed my throat was parched and nodded. “Water, please.”

In front of the bar along the wall, Micah let out a loud laugh. “Water. That’s one thing I don’t think I have here.” I wouldn’t be surprised if he was serious—I recognized scotch, vodka, tequila, martini, champagne, and wine bottles. But no water. He then turned to his backpack and took one water bottle from there. “Here you go.” He handed the bottle to me.

“Thanks.” I sat down on a velvet chaise lounge and drank half the bottle in three big gulps.

Then I set the bottle aside and rested the spear along my lap. It was beautiful with a crystal body and a white blade at one of the ends. It looked seriously sharp. And it thrummed with power. Each time I touched it, I felt it. Strong, unyielding, just, courageous, wise.

Just like Diana. Just like me.

“This is crazy,” I whispered, still having a hard time wrapping my head around this new development. I mean, not that I doubted it when Victor had first mentioned it, but thinking about it, imagining it, was different from actually living it.

Micah sat on the other chaise lounge. “I know.” He pointed to my shoulder. “You should be able to heal other people now. Why don’t you give it a try?”

The scratch was still ugly looking, but, with all the agitation of the past couple of days, I barely felt it. Still, it would be better if it was healed and not prone to any infection.

I sucked in a sharp breath. “All right.” I did the same thing I had always done with Micah and Victor. With my hand resting over the wound, I closed my eyes and imagined my power, my energy traveling from my core to the wound, cleaning it, gluing it, closing it. Warmth surged from around the scratch. I opened my eyes and gasped when I saw the cut healing. After a few seconds, it was all done. The skin was smooth and fair again. No sign of any injury. “That’s … incredible.”

One corner of Micah’s lips tugged up. “It really is.”

I lowered my hand as a sudden feeling invaded my chest, making it hard to breathe. I was sad for having to leave. “Maybe it’s time to go.”

As soon as the words left my mouth, I knew I didn’t want to leave. Not yet. Because once Micah dropped me outside the wards in NYC, that was it. Our army would be gathered and tomorrow we would march on Imha. I would probably only see Micah again during the fight, and after we hopefully won, my time would be up. He and I would conclude the Soul Oath.

And I would never have told him how I felt.

Boldness exploded in my chest, and I choked on the words that were rushing through my mouth.

Gripping the spear hard, I stood and faced him. “This might be the last time we’re alone and not in a run-for-your-life situation, so I need to tell you something.” His brow pinched and I almost lost the courage to continue. Almost. I sucked in a deep breath and pushed through anyway. “Before I die, I need to tell you that I love you.” I swallowed, shocked I had actually said it. His eyes widened in surprise. “I first realized I loved you when you brought me to the underworld to see my family, but I think I started loving you much—” With his eyes hard and his lips pressed tight, Micah rose and I stepped back. “—sooner than that.” He advanced toward me, and by the look on his face, I was sure he was going to hit me. Or shake me. Or teleport me to NYC before I could embarrass myself further. “Anyway, I just thought you should know.” I extended my hand between us. “Now you can take me back to the others.”

Micah closed his hand around mine and he pulled me hard to him. I almost lost my hold on the spear. Now, up close, I could clearly see I had misinterpreted the hard look in his eyes. He wasn’t angry or disgusted. He was hungry. For me.

I gasped as one of his hand wound around my waist and the other caught the spear from me and placed it on one of the chaise lounges. Then his hand was around my neck and his face leaned down, his mouth only one inch from mine.

“I love you too, darling,” he whispered. “I love you too damn much.”

Before I could process his confession, his lips crashed on mine and erased everything else from my mind. There was only us.

At that moment, I surrendered myself to him, body and soul. I had always been his; he had owned me even before the Soul Oath. His kiss was ardent, starving, deep, and I matched each move and each stroke. I tangled my arms around his neck, molding my body to his, wanting to touch him, to feel every inch of him.

His tongue teased mine and I moaned. At that, he pulled back and groaned. Taking advantage of the separation, I tugged his shirt up. He lifted an eyebrow at me, a question in his eyes.

Warmth seeped in my cheeks, and I said, “I love you, Micah, and I want you to make love to me.”

His eyes widened for a second and he groaned again. Without another moment of hesitation, Micah pulled his shirt over his head and threw it aside. And I let my eyes fleet over his gorgeous, rippled chest and abdomen. However, his new tattoo caught my attention.

I grazed my fingertips on what looked like the center of the tattoo, right above his heart. “How … how is it longer?”

He rested his hand over mine and pressed my palm against his heart. His heartbeat was accelerated and the up and down of his chest erratic.

“Because it’s not a tattoo,” Micah said, his voice somber.

“What is it, then?”

“Is it okay if I explain later? Right now I have more important things to do.” His eyes traveled up and down my body. He licked his lips, the shine of hunger becoming brighter in his eyes.

I smiled, loving how he looked at me. “Show me what these important things are,” I whispered.

Micah hissed. Then he hooked his arms under my shoulders and my knees and walked with me past the chaise lounges. I had no idea where he was taking me until an archway appeared out of nowhere in the wall. He walked past it with me into what looked like a massive, elegant bedroom with a big four-post bed with black gossamer curtains and black silk sheets. With his eyes boring holes into mine, he carried me to the bed and gently deposited me right in the middle.

Micah crawled on top of me. He placed his hands flat on the pillow on each side of my head, his dark gaze searching my face.

“Are you sure?”

I lifted myself on my elbows and grazed my lips on his. “I’ve never been surer in my entire life.” I wound my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist, and pulled him down on me. He groaned, taking my mouth again, and I moaned with how delicious his weight felt on me.

There was only us, and then the two of us became one—our bodies tangled together in the silk sheets, skin on skin, our breaths mingled in a frantic rhythm. My heart was about to explode with the righteousness of it all. It was as if we belonged together, as if there was nothing else in the world but us. I never thought I could feel this way, this love, this passion—about what we were doing and about him.

And deep inside, I kept wishing this moment would never, ever end.

* * *

“I shouldn’t go much farther,” Micah said, one hand around my waist, keeping me close to him.

It was late morning and we were in the middle of a dying forest. Micah had teleported us four times already since we left the underworld.

After we made love last evening, Micah convinced me to stay with him for the night.

“Levi won’t be waiting for you until tomorrow,” he had said. “And this will be the only time we have alone.”

His argument was compelling, but in the end I stayed because I wanted to.

Later that night, he teleported out and brought us dinner, and while we ate, he told me about his fight against the Death Lords and about the poisonous web spreading through his body. I jumped into action, trying to formulate a plan, a way of saving him, of stopping the poison, of making him whole again. I even tried healing him, but apparently a lady of Diana wasn’t that strong of a healer. However, he said he wasn’t worried about that, not yet. We had more important things to focus on. I knew he was right, but that didn’t make me any less worried about him. He robbed me of my thoughts when he kissed me and took me to bed again, where we made love again before falling asleep in each other’s arms. It had been the best sleep I had in a long time—nightmare-less and feeling completely safe. In the morning, Micah repeated the process, but in the opposite order. We made love, and then he went out to bring us breakfast. Then it was time to go.

I shook my head, forcing myself back to the present. “Because of your aura?”

Micah nodded. “All of our allies are supposed to be in New York, getting ready for the battle. If I stay there too long, they will sense me. We aren’t sure who we can trust, so it’s better if they all think I’m still on Imha’s side until the last minute.”

My stomach dropped. “I understand.” Trying to appease the despair taking hold of me, I gripped the hilt of the sword hanging from the belt on my waist. It was the spear disguised as a simple sword. Micah’s idea so nobody would stare at me and wonder what the hell I was up to. His way of keeping the spear and its function a secret.

“So I’m just gonna teleport us there, and I’ll instantly teleport out.”

“Are you saying goodbye now?”

One corner of his lips quirked up. “I’m trying.” He slipped a hand around my neck and cupped my nape. “Gods, I don’t want to leave you.”

I held on to his shirt as his forehead touched mine. “I don’t want to leave you either.”

He brushed his lips on mine. “Please, be careful, darling.”

“I’ll be with Ceris and Victor and Alice. You’re the one with the enemy. You should be really caref—”

He silenced me with a kiss. A desperate, deep, harsh, long kiss that left my soul raw, my heart in pieces. After a long while, he withdrew his lips but kept his head close to mine.

“I love you,” I whispered.

“I love you more,” he said.

I was about to protest, but then the world spun and blinked and the next thing I knew I was standing outside the barrier in New York. Alone.

Even knowing he wouldn’t be beside me anymore, I looked around, hoping to get one last glimpse of him.

I sighed, checked to see if my uniform was still okay—save for the bloodied, ripped shoulder—if my hair was in place, and if the sword was still secured on my waist. As soon as I crossed the barrier, everyone would be able to sense me, feel how my aura was different, and they all would look at me.

Regardless, I had to go on.

After a long breath, I crossed the barrier and started walking toward the building where our apartment was hidden. Two turns later, I started seeing our allies camped along the path—and they were all standing, looking at me as if I were a one-woman parade. I had to admit, I didn’t think we had this many allies—I couldn’t count fast enough, but if I had to guess, I would say there were about two thousand deities and supporters gathered around our apartment. And, as I walked by, they all gawked at me as if I were a creature with seven heads.

About fifty yards from the front doors of the building, Ceris and Victor poofed right in front of me. Startled, I skidded to a halt and almost bumped into them.

“Want to give me a heart attack, jeez!” I snapped, trying to calm my racing heart.

They both stared at me with giant eyes.

“Where’s the spear?” Ceris asked, her voice low. Staring at her, I touched the sword again, hoping she would get my message. She lowered her gaze to the weapon and her eyes lit up with wonder. What? She had so little faith in me she thought I wouldn’t be able to retrieve it?

“Your aura,” Victor said. “We can tell you’re the same as Alice’s, but there’s still something off.”

Ceris turned her wide eyes to me. “It’s like you’re more than her.”

“More powerful,” I added. That was what Micah suggested, though I didn’t feel powerful. “Maybe because of my higher rank?”

“By the Everlast,” Victor whispered.

“That’s … amazing.” Ceris smiled.

“So,” I started. “I know you guys want to know all about my quest and I want to know all about what happened here.” I glanced around to the curious people gathering. “But can we do it inside?”

“Of course,” Victor said.

Ceris touched my arm and poofed us both inside. Victor met us there.

Frowning, I glanced around and realized why they had transported us to their bedroom. “You don’t want the others to know about the spear.”

Victor nodded. “We know we have a traitor, but we don’t know who, so until we find out we want to keep the spear a secret.”

“All right.” It made sense, though depending on who our traitor was, he or she would be able to sense my new aura. He or she would know something was different. Well, that was a problem to think about later. Exhausted, I sat down in an armchair in the corner of their room. “So, what do you want to know first?”