He reached down and yanked her off the floor and straight against his rock-solid chest, knocking the breath from her lungs. Her legs remained numb and she thought they dangled around his shins. Since she couldn’t actually feel them, she could only guess. Either way, this was fucked-up kind of bad.
Micah had defeated her. The despair she expected never surfaced.
“This is pointless, Madison. Your heart’s not in the fight.” He combed a palm over her hair.
“I didn’t make it look good, Micah. Kur will know I failed because I had no desire to win.” And that grated along her nerves, failing to put her heart into a fight because her dedication to resist turned wishy-washy in Hell’s comfort. Once, she’d discovered protection in Micah’s arms. Hell would offer the same sanctuary, but it’d come at a high price…the loss of her humanity and sacrifice of her son.
When had she ever taken the road of least resistance? Georgie’s words leeched into her head:
My humanity will not fall to his will. For Phoenix and for Amos I will be stronger than his might
.
“There was fire in your eyes to kill me the night I took Phoenix from you. It’s not there tonight. It’s unfair of Kur to expect you to kill me.”
She’d wanted his blood not too long ago. She should still.
What of Amos
, Usha whispered.
If we fall, become Micah’s wife again, and I’m not saying we should or shouldn’t, but what will become of our son
? A valid question and one she couldn’t ignore.
Retracting his claws, Micah ran one finger down her face, along her neck and her left arm that still bled from his claw incision. He lifted her arm and licked from shoulder down to elbow, eliminating that portion of the wound. The remainder of the cut, from elbow to wrist, continued to ooze red droplets on the floor. A hand pressed against her lower back, directly over her spine where he’d kicked her. His palm grew warm, shifted to hot before swelling into blistering. But when her leg twitched, she realized he healed whatever damage he’d done.
Micah’s hot breath tickled her ear and cast shivers of awareness along her body. “You are my woman, Madison. Admit it and I will seat Phoenix and your people as royalty in our kingdom. Anything you want will be yours.”
The one thing she wanted, he couldn’t give her. Her son would never be a normal, average man. A woman with less humanity—or less stubbornness—might see his offer as amazing. The deal of a lifetime, like winning a small country. Madison should accept his proposition. God knew she’d be here in Hell when their war ended. If he proposed something more than a lifetime of domination and servitude in the guise of a religious uprising, she’d accept in a heartbeat.
Snagging bloody fingers in his hair, she pulled his head back, her actions demanding his sole focus. “You bestow more than I deserve.”
“No. You’re precious. You deserve more than I can give.”
Around them, everything went silent except for the battle between Elias and Kur. Would one of them ever win? Or would they fight until they ceased to breathe?
Madison tugged Micah’s head toward hers, skimmed his lips with hers, and he shivered against her. In his tiny physical reaction, he exposed his emotions. He would give her the world, and would sacrifice everything, if she’d just take it.
She was his weakness. Her emotions were mixed over that reality. She may never trust him, but could she grow to love him again?
Do I want to commit my life to him again
?
Amos means more than my wants or needs
.
Only a fool would decline his deal, but she’d always known she was a fool.
“I could love you deeply again, Micah.” And damn herself, the world, and her son in the process.
His flame eyes shifted to blue. “Accept your status as Hell’s Queen without further drama and I’ll hand you the world.”
Sadness clogged her throat and she leaned her forehead against his. “I regretfully decline,” she whispered and stabbed him in the heart—she hoped—with her left hand.
With a hiss, his head lurched backward, but he didn’t release her. Micah’s eyes rounded and he looked down at his chest as smoke wisped from the wound. Blood as black and thick as tar bubbled over the blade.
One of his hands landed over hers, tightening her grip on the blade. Air rattled from his lungs.
“Dragon blade,
kitten
.” She figured the tears blurring her vision cancelled out any slurring her words might’ve had. “I would’ve accepted my position if my loyalty didn’t lie with Amos first. His future is more important than what either of us wants.”
With his hand covering hers, Madison twisted the handle, executing what she hoped would deliver the final death blow. A rib cracked beneath the blade and blood trickled from the corner of his mouth. She bit her bottom lip and her heartbeat escalated.
“I’m….” She wouldn’t say sorry, not a day before he apologized for his bad behavior. But where was her excitement at having defeated him? She’d done it! She’d actually managed to deliver him into death, yet, the hollowness in her heart ached with remorse.
He’ll die because of me
.
“Your…tenacity…so sexy.” Micah blinked slowly as he removed his hand from hers. A bloody finger traced across her cheek. “You deliver…your own death…with mine.” She accepted that outcome. As his hold on her loosened, he kissed her, a tender, emotional embrace. “Love you…so much…Madison. You were…never”—he coughed, spewing blood over his chin—“more beautiful…than you are now.”
Tears erupted, slid down her cheeks.
“I love you,” he wheezed the words out.
“Always your wife, Micah.”
“Mine.”
She ripped her soul-charm from around his throat. “It’s only fitting I die with it in my possession.”
“If I survive, I’ll return for you.”
She nodded, praying he lived, while hoping he died.
“Bitch!” Elias screeched, arriving behind Micah and yanking him away from her.
The blade made a sucking sound as it exited his body. Black blood welled from the wound and Madison continued to stare at her dying husband. Why did she feel so lost, as if all her direction were now voided?
In dragon form, Kur landed beside her in a burst of air. Brimstone settled on her in a powdery mist as a protective wing unfurled in front of her. She didn’t budge, just continued to watch Micah die. His breaths grew labored and shallow.
He coughed up blood, but pride glowed from his gaze. That confused her. Why did her actions give him satisfaction? Why did she gain happiness from his pleasure?
“If he dies, I vow on Beliel’s soul, I’ll come for you,” Elias snarled.
Micah and Elias disappeared through a magical portal.
Chapter Thirty-seven
Kur touched the moisture on her cheeks. “He doesn’t deserve your tears.”
She said nothing, but stared at the place where Micah had been.
“Come.” Kur tugged on her arm. “You need to get out of Hell before Elias returns.”
She didn’t wish to leave. With Micah’s death, she’d return soon enough, maybe within the week. She had no idea how long it’d take her to die since they were soul-bound. “I’ll stay.”
“Elias will return for you and you won’t like anything he has planned.”
“I’m soul-bonded to Micah.” She met Kur’s dark scrutiny and he sucked in a surprised breath at her admission. “I’m hell-bound either way. What’s the point in running?”
“Phoenix is connected to you through the covenant. He must be convinced to release the deal.”
Damn. She’d forgotten that minor dilemma. She rubbed her eyes.
“I cannot guarantee Micah is dead.” Kur shifted his footing. His words gave her hope when she should be celebrating her freedom. “He should’ve exploded and died immediately, like any demon you kill earthbound. He didn’t. I’m unsure of his outcome. Either way, Elias is furious. He’s not a King you lightly piss off unless you have Micah’s protection.” Kur held out his arm, and she noticed his shirtsleeve wasn’t even singed from his altercation with Elias. “Shall I be given the honor of escorting you from Hell?”
Braving the chill of his touch, Madison clenched his arm and nodded.
Coming through Hell’s gates ranked right up there with birthing Amos. No epidural, no drugs in the final stages and screaming her lungs out. Grace shouldn’t be her middle name because she didn’t return gracefully, but hit the earth on her hands and knees, gasping and shivering.
“Who turned the heat off up here?” Madison groaned, quivering at the sudden temperature change.
“It’s ninety-eight degrees outside with ninety-five percent humidity.” Zen stood to her right, delivering boring facts in his stiff tone.
Where did he get that shit from? Pluck it from thin air? And how had he known they were coming from Hell?
He offered his hand to help her to her feet. Madison placed her hand in his and yanked hard. He hit the grassy earth with his knees and she peered at him through her lashes. “You’ve got some explaining to do, Zen.” A shudder coursed down her spine and shook her entire body. Even her teeth rattled and her bottom lip quivered. “I can’t miss the coincidence that Zennyo Ryuo is an ancient Japanese dragon myth and you handed me a dragon army to command.”
He said nothing, just gave her a quick nod.
“And you,” she glanced at Kur, “you’re welcome to join the conversation.”
“That an order or a request?”
“Consider it both.” She took in her surroundings. They were in the glen originally prepped to enter Hell.
“I’m happy you returned, Madison,” Zen said, stiffly and formally.
“There’s a but at the end of that sentence.” She sat and rubbed her forehead. The scratch on her arm ached and the sigil burned. She clenched her teeth together. Her temples throbbed from gritting back the body-shivering cold at the temperature variance between Hell and earth. “You two have to give me a second to catch my breath.” She rubbed her arms, but didn’t grow any warmer. “What’s the ‘but’, Zen?”
“Pandora,” he said bluntly. “You let it get out of control.”
She laughed. “I didn’t let Pandora get out of control, I defeated her.
I
got out of control.” Her teeth chattered and she clamped them hard. “I was jacked up on angel seraph, Zen, and that was after getting off on Nix’s mojo. I wasn’t in control of anything for several minutes.”
“Pandora’s gone?” His expression remained neutral, but his tone sounded horrified by the prospect.
“Yes.”
“Phoenix said he thought you had defeated her.” Zen reclined beside her, Indian fashion. “Micah fed you his blood again?”
“No.” She scooted back to lean against the tree behind her and hugged herself. “Well, yeah, but afterward he branded this”—she waggled her wrist at him. His expression remained neutral, but she sensed his unease—“on me, and fed me his seraph directly through it.” Zen took her branded arm and she winced when he placed his palm over it. “I won’t lie to you, Zen. I loved it and could become addicted to it easily. I don’t think manna could taste better. And my Lynx couldn’t resist his sway much longer if he continued to jack me up on that tasty stuff. Like I said, I went wonky for a few minutes.”
“Lynx?” He expelled a breath.
“You know something about them?”
“Enough to frighten you.” She waited while he pondered the horizon. “And me.”
“Maybe you should kill me before we return to the house.”
Zen shook his head. “Ancient Pandora power doubled with your Lynx power….” He sighed as his gaze shifted to meet hers. “I don’t know how the seraph alters you further.”
“Instead of healing me, I drank Nix’s this time, too.”
“You’re glimmering with power, an odd mixture of gold and blue.”
“I won’t pretend I have the succubus under control, Zen. Ask your dragon. I didn’t wish to return.” The Hellhounds emerged from the other side of the tree. Zen sat up straight when they whined and she absently stroked behind their ears.
“She’s right. If not for bearing Phoenix Birmingham’s covenant, she would’ve refused to return to earth.” Kur confirmed her statement with no emotion.
Zen’s silence unnerved her.
“You cannot believe the sadness I feel over the possibility that Micah might be dead.”
“She cried.”
“I only returned so Nix could release me from the covenant.”
“And then what?” Zen asked.
She shrugged. Her lack of response was obviously not to his liking because his ancient power snaked into her and hurt like tiny razor blades set loose in her veins. Madison sensed she could block his mental search, but she remained lax and allowed his probe, gritting her teeth through it.
Kur stood at her feet, watching them with curiosity, his dark head cocked to the side as if they were of grave interest. She took the time to study the dragon. In daylight, his good looks were even more pronounced. The sun turned his shoulder-length hair into glossy blue-black strands. Even his black eyes held a hint of sapphire. He was tall, maybe six-five.
“If not for Amos, would you return to Micah if he lives?”
“Yes.” In a heartbeat. That was the scary part.
“What of Phoenix?”
Her pulse tripped a beat. “What of him?”
“You would choose Micah over him?”
Madison stared at Zen a long moment, carefully gauging her response. “I have no reason to stay for Nix.” Her voice trembled.
“Don’t pretend with me, Madison. I see into here.” He tapped between her breasts. “I
see
.”
“Nix has never led me to believe there is anything other than friendship between us.”
“What he did to you in the hotel room was not a sign of friendship.”
Madison flushed at the memory of Nix’s hand between her legs, offering pleasure of the kind she’d only dreamed possible. He’d shown her sex could be fantastic. Clearing her throat, she changed the topic. “Micah said I caused an earthquake.”
For a brief moment, she expected Zen would press his prior questioning. “Yes.” Grave consequences echoed from his steely stare.
Afraid of the answer, she almost didn’t ask the question. “How many…died?”
“A lot.”
“Zen.”
“Thousands.”
She blinked rapidly, attempting to stave off the tears. Failing, the first teardrop hit her cheek. “You son-of-a-bitch.” Her ragged voice shook with her anger. “Why didn’t you kill me before it happened?” She curled the fingers of her free hand. Her nails dug into her palm. “Like you fucking promised!”