I raised my hand to knock again and the door opened.
Micah stood beside the half-open door, his hair unruly, his dark eyes curious, and his chest naked.
My throat felt dry, and my heart skipped a beat.
My gaze rummaged his fine torso. God, he was more than fine. The urge to graze my nails over the hard muscles of his chest and abdomen rushed through me, bringing a heat wave with it.
His muscles weren’t everything though. His tattoos drew me in too. He had a coiled snake on his left shoulder, four lines of Hebrew writing over his chest, and tribal drawings to the side of his abdomen, which spread onto his back.
To complete the package, he wore his mother’s necklace, which showed me that, even after finding out he was a god and his human parents had been nothing but vessels, he cared. It was much harder to stay immune to him and his charm when I knew he cared.
“Darling,” he said, breaking my daze. The heat in my body shifted to my cheeks when I forced my eyes to meet his. He offered me one of his devilish grins. “To what do I owe such a visit?”
“Uh,” I muttered, because I had completely forgotten what I had come here for. That was what I got for seeing him only in his dark jeans.
He chuckled and the heat on my cheeks became molten lava. “Cat got your tongue, darling? Or was it something else?” He raised one of eyebrows.
I could smack that cocky expression from his face. Focusing on that, I took a deep breath and finally spoke up. “I want to ask you a question about the Soul Oath.”
His expression hardened. After glancing to the sides of the corridor, he stepped aside. “Come in.”
I entered his room and was a little disappointed to find it was exactly like mine, exactly like all the rooms here. For some reason, I expected Micah to have a nice place, with a big bed, a comfy couch, fluffy rugs, and posters of Harleys and sport cars and naked women on the walls.
Crossing his arms, he leaned against the closed door. I almost drooled again because, hmm, that only made the muscles on his chest and arms and shoulders tauter.
“What is it?” he asked.
I shook my head, trying to clear my thoughts. “While we were fighting in the forest, I worried about dying. I mean, what if I die before you and I can honor the Soul Oath? What if I’m killed during one of our battles during the war? What will happen then? I’ll just die, and my family will stay in the underworld?”
“Your soul is mine regardless of how and when you die. If you die tomorrow …” He paused, his expression pained. “The Soul Oath will be honored even if you die tomorrow. Your soul will be mine, and I’ll bring back your family once the war is over.”
Relief filled me. “Thank God. That was all I needed to know.” I stepped toward the door, toward him, but he didn’t move. His eyes were hard on me, and I felt my cheeks warming again. “I’ll leave you be now,” I said. He didn’t move though, and he didn’t stop staring at me. The heat spread from my cheeks to my body, even though I couldn’t tell if he was staring at me because he was mad or because of some other reason. “Micah, let me open the door, please.”
I counted the seconds, until he finally moved aside and opened the door for me. “Good night, Nadine,” he said, his voice devoid of emotion.
“Good night,” I whispered as I walked past him, feeling the weight of his gaze on me.
As soon as I stepped out, he closed the door, and I hurried back to my bedroom.
The night was horrible.
The same nightmare with my family populated my mind, and when I tried to focus on something else and fall back asleep, I would remember what happened in the forest. The nymphs turning into demons, more demons surrounding us, Omi provoking me, the fight, the claws, the blood, the gore. I didn’t know how I went through all that without breaking down because right now all I wanted to do was hold Pinky and hide under my pillow.
To calm my mind, I hummed a lullaby. It did relax me, but it also brought tears to my eyes. My pillow had a wet blotch when I finally drifted to sleep again.
“Hey, Nad.” Someone shook my shoulder, the one with the bandage.
“Ow,” I complained, recoiling farther into the bed. Yawning, I opened my eyes. “Hey, Keisha.”
“Morning, sleeping beauty. Lady Ceris is calling everyone for a meeting.”
“Now?”
She smiled. “It’s almost noon!”
Really? Well, at least I did get some sleep. After too many nights dealing with nightmares, sleeping in late was a nice change.
I sat up. “Okay, okay. I’ll be there in about … thirty minutes.”
“Lady Ceris said now.”
“I need a shower, clean clothes, and food. Only then will I be able to sit through a meeting.”
“Suit yourself.” Keisha marched to the door. She paused, her hand over the knob. “You did well yesterday, you know.” I raised my eyebrows. Was she talking to me? “I mean it. You fought well, and you didn’t give in when Omi tried to bait you.”
The memory of Omi provoking me came back to my mind, bringing rage and hatred with it.
“Oh, I wanted to smack that smirk from his face.”
“I know you did. But you didn’t.” She tilted her head. “I confess I was a little skeptical when we began training because you were a novice, but now I’m happy you asked me.”
“Me too,” I whispered.
She nodded and left my room. I reluctantly jumped out of bed and got ready for said meeting. Shower; put on jeans, red sweater, black boots; stop by the cafeteria; make a sandwich and black coffee; eat and drink while walking to the conference room.
Twenty-seven minutes later, I entered the conference room holding half a sandwich and a coffee mug.
Keisha, Victor, and Micah sat in the same places as last time, and Zelen took the seat Morgan had taken before.
I sat on my chair. “Where are Ceris and Izaera?”
Victor rested his elbows on the table and clasped his hands together. “They were here until a few minutes ago. They wanted to discuss something in private.”
Silence reigned for a couple of minutes. Meanwhile, I finished my sandwich. But not my coffee.
I sipped from my mug and noticed Micah staring at me. I held his dark gaze long enough to spread heat through my cheeks, and then focused on my mug.
I didn’t understand him. Not at all. Was it just me, or was he sending me mixed signals all the time?
As much as I tried fighting it, I couldn’t help but feel something for him. Irritation? Curiosity? I didn’t know. When he looked at me like that, all I wanted was to … do what? Slap him. Kiss him. Maybe both. Then kiss him some more, until the air around us went up fifty degrees.
I shook my head, ashamed of thinking such things. We were at war, I needed to focus on that only. Finding the scepters and winning the war. No room for hate and love drama.