It’s the same onyx armor he gave me when I fought the angels in the cavern, protecting me from their light.
“You think I’m going up against an angel, don’t you?”
“It’s the only reason Crone would tell Arga to bring a tainted blade,” he says. “Demon’s blood can weaken an angel.” His forehead creases and his brows draw down. “Although the location doesn’t quite fit.”
“The Cage?” I ask.
“It’s a close combat ring. It doesn’t allow much space for an angel to fly—although that could be the point. It could make the angel an easier target.”
Roman strikes his wrist again. This time, the script forms the shape of a dagger with a jagged edge. He barely winces as he draws the blade lightly across his arm, leaving a thin line of blood before the wound seals up again.
“Wait, what are you…?”
“My demon blood is purer than yours,” he says. “You need the strongest you can get.”
He slides the dagger into a harness that appears at my waist as soon as he casts another rune.
“Now you’re ready,” he says, looking me up and down, the heat in his gaze taking my breath away.
“Okay, then,” I say, determination thrumming through me. “Take me to the fight.”
CHAPTERTHIRTY-FOUR
Aroar of voices assaults me as soon as we step off the light beam onto the top of a tall building. Situated a few blocks from the prison, it’s slightly shorter than the other buildings around it, but its rooftop is massive.
A huge fighting ring sits in the center, which is fully caged around the sides and top and has what looks like only one gate in and out. Spotlights rest all around the edges of the roof, shining brightly onto the combat ring.
While there’s a clear path around the ring that leads to an atrium on the far side of the rooftop, the rest of the space is filled with a crowd of what I can only assume are the same elite demons who witnessed the Purification.
My demon sight makes them appear garish, their power a rainbow haze filling the air around them. They’re seated at tables and holding drinks of all colors and, judging by the demons moving swiftly between tables collecting what look like silver coins, they’re placing bets—no doubt on who will proceed to the next round.
The beam of light we traveled along sets us down in the center of the cleared path, which has transparent barriers on either side of it. The walkway leads around the fighting ring and across to a dais sporting six empty chairs.
As soon as we step off the light beam, the crowd hushes, the elite demons turning and craning their heads—until they see Roman. Then they hurriedly avert their eyes. I guess even the elite of the demon world are afraid of the boogeyman.
At the Purification, Roman kept to the shadows, but this time, he walks openly beside me.
“You need to take your place on the dais,” he says, leading the way.
Despite my alpha nature, I have no problem letting him walk in front of me, his presence like that of a bodyguard, keeping the elite demons’ eyes off me, while my wolves watch my back by fanning out behind me.
Roman gestures quietly to the sixth seat on the far left of the dais. His deep voice vibrates through my senses. “I’ll be a few steps away from you, Nova.”
I lean toward him, keeping my voice low, although the hum of the crowd has reignited since we started walking. “No matter what happens, you can’t interfere.”
His jaw clenches. “I won’t make any promises if your life is threatened.”
My heart hurts at the thought that he’s willing to jeopardize everything for my safety. He steps back before I can reach for him. My wolves take up position with him in the sectioned-off area at the back left corner of the dais, their determined eyes giving me a sense of calm.
Stepping up onto the dais, I angle for the seat closest to my pack.
At that moment, the atrium behind the dais opens and Crone glides from it. Since I saw her earlier this evening, she’s changed out of her porcelain robes and now wears a silver gown that catches the light, making her colorless skin glow.
The other five royals walk in a line behind her.
Arga looks like a giant striding along behind tiny Crone and I can only imagine that’s the point, while the other royals don’t quite reach his stature.
He isn’t wearing armor—although I’m not totally surprised because Esta said that armor was her guess—but heiscarrying multiple blades in a harness around his chest. His shirt is sleeveless, showing off large biceps, while dark pants and boots conform to his muscled legs.
