Micah scrambled to his feet, a big smile on his face. His gaze met mine, pride and realization shone on his handsome features, and I smiled.

The scepter was more beautiful than I remembered. A long, round staff, topped by an orb shining with a black light, all made of crystal. It probably weighed a ton, but Micah held it as if it didn’t weigh more than a rose.

He tightened his grip around the scepter. “Nothing is happening.”

Hmm. Something nagged in my mind. The scepter was round and somewhat thin … the first room. The altar and the holes on it.

“You have to take it to that first room we came through,” I said. “I think you and Victor have to take the scepters there.”

“Are you sure?” Izaera asked.

I put my hands on my hips. “Why does everyone keep asking me that? No, I’m not sure. I’m never sure.”

“And yet, you haven’t been wrong once,” Micah said. “Let’s go.”

“Wait a second,” Izaera said. She closed her eyes, and I thought she was entering a deep sleep. A few moments later, her eyes fluttered open. “All right. I told Ceris where we found the scepter. They will try that and meet us in the altar room as soon as they have Levi’s.”

Morgan frowned. “Can we go now?”

We didn’t answer, but we moved to the stairs. At first we skipped the steps, rushing up, but after ten minutes of happy climbing our legs were tired.

“The others have it better,” Izaera said, leaning against the wall to catch her breath. “They got tired first, but now they will breeze to the entrance.”

I leaned beside her.

“Then we better keep moving,” Micah urged, gently pulling me off the wall.

We continued to climb the steps, but not at the same pace as before.

When we predicted there couldn’t be much more painful climbing ahead of us, the sound of a loose rock bouncing down the steps brought us to a halt. A few seconds later, the rock came into view, a tiny little thing, rolling down the steps and created such an echo.

Izaera put the tip of her boot over it, and the place became dead silent.

“That’s odd,” I whispered. “Why would there be a loose r—?”

The growls of demons rushing down the steps vibrated through the walls, making me shut my mouth.

Micah thrust his scepter into my hand and rushed forward to stand beside Izaera, his sword drawn.

I stood there, gawking at the marvel in my hand, and amazed, not only by its beauty, but because it didn’t weigh one tenth of what I thought it would—and because Micah had trusted it to me.

The clash of metal, the bright green flashes, and the growl and grunts told more of the fight than my eyes showed me. Morgan held his flashlight higher, but still it didn’t illuminate much.

An anxiety to help, to fight, built in me, like an itch I couldn’t scratch.

Morgan scooted closer to me. “I can hold it, if you want to fight.”

I started to turn to him, to hand the scepter to him, but stopped. “There’s no space,” I said, looking at the shapes that were Micah and Izaera. “All I can do is stand behind them and cheer. Not good enough.”

In a matter of seconds, we moved up again crossing over the bodies of fallen demons.

“By the Everlast,” Izaera groaned, throwing a green bolt into the darkness. I was sure it had hit a demon, but I couldn’t see it from here. “Why are there shields everywhere? Like in the shelter, I can barely cast a decent bolt here.”

“Better safe than sorry,” Micah said, parrying a claw with his blade and drawing blood.

“It’s nice when I don’t want enemies casting anything at me, but not when I want to cast something!”

Micah chuckled, but it became a grunt as one of the demons swiped at his arm.

With an enraged shout, he slashed the demon’s throat and stomped over its body, already lunging at another one.

“Come on,” he shouted. “We need to get up there.”

Only the Fates knew how many demons were in our way. I hoped not many because if the demons were here, it meant Omi and Imha knew where we were, and the longer it took us to do whatever we had to do, the more time they had to arrive.

I was about to ask one of them to trade places with me so they could rest, when they stopped fighting.

Izaera took a long, calming breath. “It seems clear now.”

“Until the next wave comes,” Micah said, panting.

“Let’s hope there aren’t many around,” I said, coming up the stairs to stand before him. “Not yet, at least.”

I handed him the scepter, and he clasped his fingers over mine.

I didn’t object. I didn’t have it in me to object. Not now. Instead, I stared at him. Really stared at him. Even with the sweat, the tired mien, and the few bruises, he was too gorgeous for anyone’s sake. His black eyes met mine, and I wished I could read whatever secret message was in them because I would bet my soul, if it was still mine, there was a hidden message in there.

I wiggled my hand free from his and, as I turned to the stairs, the thick trail of blood on his upper arm caught my eye.

I brushed my fingers beside it. He groaned.

“Sorry,” I whispered, the heat of embarrassment taking over my cheeks. Why did I touch him?

“It’s all right.”

“Is it bad?” I wanted to reach over and get a good look at it, but I was afraid of touching him again.

“I don’t think so.” He showed me his cocky smile. “I’ll live.”

He better because I had lost too much already, and I couldn’t lose him too. I gasped with that realization.

“Let’s move,” Izaera called from several steps ahead. “Are you coming?”

Clearing my throat, I stepped back and rushed up.

I slowed down when I caught up with Morgan and Izaera, but I could feel Micah close behind me.

As I lifted my foot to reach the next step, a monstrous groan reached my ears. The ground shook. The walls shook. The ceiling shook.

“The volcano!” Morgan yelled. “It’s awakening.”

Bright orange glowed from far down the stairwell.

“Run!” Izaera shouted.

Oh, God.

On instinct, I placed my foot down to run, but with the tremors, it slipped. I was falling back, arms flailing at my sides, trying to grab anything, but there were only stones, rocks, and no edge to really grip. Then strong arms snaked around my waist, and I was pulled up, my chest flush with Micah’s.

His wide eyes were on mine, and I could feel his heart beating almost as fast as mine.

“By the Everlast, I thought you were gonna fall headfirst,” he whispered.

We looked back at the bright orange. It was getting brighter. And hotter.

“Shit,” I whispered, disentangling myself from him.

He grabbed my hand and practically hauled me up. I had no idea where he got so much energy and stamina, but I wasn’t complaining right now.

We reached the altar room, and I leaned against the wall, taking in the less stuffy air in big gulps.

“Nadine,” Micah whispered.

I opened my mouth to send him to hell and tell him to leave me alone while I was trying to resurrect my lungs, but I lost my voice when I lifted my head.

Oh, God.

My legs wanted to give away, but I forced them to lock and hold on.

I straightened my back, stood beside Micah, Izaera, and Morgan, and pulled my sword from my waist, facing the eight demons in the altar room.

The monsters lunged at us.

Izaera quickly stunned three with her green bolts. Micah engaged two, fighting them as if he was a dancer on recital night. Two came at me, and I hopped over the altar, where I had an advantage.

Morgan … I glanced around. Where was Morgan?

One of the demons swiped at my leg, and I fell on the ground. Pain burst from my knees, jarring my legs. I gritted my teeth, willing the scream to stay inside.

It came at me with its big claws again. I jumped up, and when its arm was pulled back I knelt again and slashed its throat. The gooey blood spilled on me, and I wrinkled my nose in disgust.

The other demon didn’t waste time and jumped up on the altar. I was about to parry its attack, prepared to duck low and pierce it from the side, but it wasn’t necessary as the tip of a blade appeared from its chest, immobilizing it.

The blade was gone, and the demon fell at my feet, revealing Micah behind it.

He had his smug grin on. “You’re welcome, darling.”

I marched around the demon and stopped a foot from him, pointing my finger at his chest. “I don’t need you to save me all the time.”

He looked like I had slapped him. “What? So I’m supposed to let you fall into the lava, or let you fight demons alone while I watch? Why not help you?”

“I don’t need your help!”

“Why is it so hard for you to accept my help?”

I pressed my lips together, but the words slipped anyway. “I am not a damsel in distress! I’m not helpless!”

He leaned over me. “I know that. Believe me, I even think it’s quite hot actually. But you can’t blame me for wanting to protect you. I—”

“Protect me?” I scoffed. “Did you forget our deal? How will you protect me from that?”

“What is she talking about?” Izaera asked, coming up to the altar with us. Micah and I stepped back, turning away from each other. “Neither of you will answer? Mitrus, what deal did you make with her?”

“It doesn’t matter,” I said before he could answer her. “It’s my deal and it won’t affect anyone or anything else, so you don’t need to worry about it.”

Tilting her head, Izaera squinted at me, as if trying to read my soul. “And because you said that, I’m now worried. What is it?”

I wouldn’t tell her, no matter how many times she asked or what she did. I just hoped Micah didn’t tell her either.

Morgan appeared from the shadows along a wall. “Tell us, Nad.”

“It doesn’t matter,” I repeated in a low tone. There were just the demons’ bodies and us in the room now. I turned to Micah. “Here.” I pointed to one of the holes on the edge of the altar. “Place your scepter here.”

Matter forgotten, he inserted the end of his scepter in the hole and let go. It fit perfectly, making the scepter stand tall.

“I don’t understand,” he said.

“We probably have to wait for Victor,” I said.

Micah puffed in frustration. He clenched and unclenched his fists, probably trying to hide from me that he was trembling.

Shaking my head, I reached to him and cupped his cheeks. “When will you learn to ask for it?”

A cold jolt prickled my palms and energy seeped into him.

Closing his eyes, he inhaled deeply. “I was hoping we could end this soon and I wouldn’t have to bother you,” he whispered.

“I don’t like seeing you hurt,” I said.

The energy stopped flowing, and Micah opened his eyes, staring into mine. I pulled my hands away, but he took them in his. “Careful, darling. I’ll think you care.”

Fighting a smile, I retreated and jumped off the altar.

Morgan kept glancing at the doors, his eyes wide, his hands shaking, and Izaera communicated with Ceris often.

“They are on their way down,” she informed us. I wasn’t keeping track of time, and honestly, the minutes felt like hours.

Micah paced from one edge of the altar to the other, visibly impatient. “Tell them to hurry, before more demons arrive.”

“Too late for that,” a new voice said.

My blood froze, and I nearly dropped my sword. Everyone froze.

I didn’t need to turn around to find out to whom that voice belonged, but I did anyway. Omi stood by the main entrance with a crap load of demons.