From this moment on, I’m not going to take anything for granted.
CHAPTERFORTY-TWO
Minutes later, after a quick stop at my assigned room, we step out onto a surprisingly dark street. Before the afterparty, the entire city had sparkled with illumination. Now, the buildings around us are dark, the streets deserted, and there isn’t a single light beam in sight.
My wolves take up formation around Roman and me. Without the streetlights, moonlight shines directly onto the footpath, casting a much softer gleam across the shiny buildings than the harsh artificial light.
The air is verging on hot, and if we were in Vegas, I’d say that a storm was brewing deep in the mountains and valleys. Here, though, there isn’t a hint of rain, only the tingle of electricity and violence in the air.
I’m most surprised by the absence of demons. Even though we’re approaching midnight, it’s as if thousands of them have simply disappeared—or gone into hiding.
I cast a wary glance at Roman. He said he’d made the elites remember why they fear him.
“You did this?” I ask him.
He gives me a single incline of his head, a glint in his darkening eyes. “The elites have forgotten that my power is connected with the energy of this land and that I can draw on it at will. They will go without their usual comforts tonight.”
He gestures to a side alley on the left. “This way. It’s only a few blocks. Beware of listening ears and watching eyes.”
I hurry along the street with him, my footfalls quiet, while my wolves remain on high alert around us. Stretching my legs eases the remaining pain in my body and seems to speed up the healing power of the rune Roman placed on me. Within a few minutes, I’m moving more easily.
I want to tell Roman about the fight with Arga, but I’m conscious of his warning about listening ears, so I hold my thoughts until we reach the end of the avenue that leads to the prison. As soon as we step through the black stone wall onto the prison’s front footpath, I judge the quiet around us and consider that this is the most private environment we’ll get.
“I couldn’t find Arga’s fear.” I stop on the footpath, pressing my fingernails into my palms. “I know you said that if I can find your fear, I can find anyone’s. But youwantedme to see your fears. Arga doesn’t. I’m not sure if I can do it.”
I gasp as Roman wraps his arms around my back and hips and hauls me up off the ground so fast that I’m pressed against the stone wall before I know it. He cushions the back of my head with his hand, taking the impact while the violent rumbles in his chest vibrate through me. Wolf growls. Demon snarls.
The shadow cast by the prison’s latest angular shape throws us into darkness and I can’t tell if his eyes are stormy green or pure black, but right now, all that matters is his rage.
I wrap my legs around his waist and take his weight, biting my lip to stop a moan as heat and energy course through me, caressing my center.
“Youwillfind Arga’s fear, and youwilllive, Nova,” Roman snarls, a harsh order that makes my wolf rise. My alpha nature would be triggered by his command if I didn’t already understand that his anger is born from his fear of losing me.
But I can’t promise him that I’ll live when it could be a lie.
All I can promise is that I will fight with everything I’ve got. Even though that might not be enough.
So instead, I do what I wanted to do after I survived the poison—but couldn’t because of Crone. I wrap my arms around his shoulders, and I hold him.
Closing my eyes, taking in this moment like it’s my last, I breathe in his scent, slow and steady, knowing that what I’m about to ask will only increase his rage.
“Roman,” I say, tilting my head back so I can see the shadowy lines of his face. “I need you to forge a death bond with me.”
He jolts so hard that he pulls me off the wall. “No.”
I continue without hesitation. “If I die, I need to know that my sisters will be safe. You have to promise me that you’ll use the angel’s weapon to get them out.”
He shakes his head, but I take his face in my hands, gripping tightly and plowing on. “If I die, you can’t stop to avenge me or to destroy Crone. To do either of those things could jeopardize my sisters’ lives. I know it will be hard for you… to not only walk away from Crone and Arga… but torun. I need you to make me this promise, Roman. My sisters have to live.”
His throat moves as he swallows hard. “Nova,” he finally rasps out. “I won’t consider your death.”
My fingertips brush his jaw. “Please, Roman. This is my final wish.” The tension in his shoulders doesn’t abate and I try another approach. “If you do this, I’ll be able to fight without distraction because I’ll know that no matter what happens, my sisters will be safe.”
He wants to argue. He wants to fight me. I know it from the energy sizzling through his biceps, the corded muscles in his arms, the tension in his neck… but he exhales. Slowly. And seems to come to a decision.
His jaw tightens. “You won’t die tomorrow,” he says, his eyes narrowed and glittering, as if he’s thinking it through. “So it’s not a difficult promise to make.”
I breathe out my relief, slumping against him. I wasn’t lying about being distracted. Knowing that my sisters are safe with Roman gives me the focus I need right now.
