Page 115 of Conflicted

I kissed his temple. “Don’t give up on us, Micah.”

“I won’t.”

His whisper might’ve made me doubt him, but there was no doubt in the bond. Just a steady determination.

All of our teasing was long gone now, neither of us able to ignore why we were there any longer. We spent those final few moments holding each other in silence,absorbing each other’s oxygen like it might sustain us for a little while longer.

When the doors burst open, we parted reluctantly, moving to stand side by side. There’d be no more pretending or denying each other. We were a united front. Micah took my hand and squeezed. I flashed him a grin, trying to reassure him.

It was hopeless, especially with the bond, but I’d never stop trying to make Micah happy. Even in the face of losing our immortality, I’d still do whatever it took to see his smile.

A red-faced Damon exited, a grim looking Arthur at his side. Through the open doors, we heard Amelia. She was shouting.

“How can you justify this? No, I’m not fuckingleaving.Punish me all you want but…”

We didn’t hear the rest of her sentence, the doors slamming shut once more. Micah’s face paled. “What is she do?—?”

“What she thinks is right.” Damon cut him off with an apologetic look. “Don’t worry about that, Amelia knows what she’s doing.”

“You don’t understand.” Micah stepped forwards urgently. “We have to stop her. They’ll hurt her.”

Arthur winced as Damon answered. “We know.”

Micah’s nostrils flared. “No, you don’t understand. They won’t let this rest?—”

“No, Micah,” Damon said patiently, as he once again interrupted him. “You don’t understand.We know.We all know what punishments can be dealt out, Amelia especially. We’ve all been in that cell with Emilio.” His gaze slid to me. “You’re not the only one who rejoiced the day he was executed.”

Micah and I exchanged a shocked look. What the fuck was happening up here?

“Come on.” Arthur jerked his head to the side. “They’ve decided to postpone your…meetinguntil further notice.”

Micah and I rolled our eyes simultaneously. Delaying was a classic torture tactic. Nothing increased fear like not knowing when the axe would fall. “Where are we supposed to go in the meantime?”

I was the one who’d asked the question, but Arthur looked at Micah as he answered. “The cells. I’m sorry.”

My eyes narrowed as I caught the pity in his voice. “Which cells?”

Damon sighed. “They don’t care which cell you’re put in, but we’ve had specific orders for Micah.”

“It’s okay,” Micah said softly. From the sweat slicking his palm, I’d say it was very muchnot okay.“Really, I’ll be fine.”

“I’m sorry,” Arthur whispered. “We tried to convince them to choose a different one. Any other one.”

Micah tried to smile, tried to reassure them that it was okay. It hit me then, the obvious thing I was missing.

They were imprisoning Micah in the cell where Emilio used to torture him.

27

Micah

“How are you doing, little angel?”

I couldn’t see Nox, but I could hear him. From the volume of his voice, I knew he was leaning on the other side of the wall I was slumped against. There’d been nothing he could do to get me put into a different cell, but Damon and Arthur had agreed to put him in the one right beside mine.

The cell was like any you’d find in a medieval dungeon. I think both Heaven and Hell had looked at that period of human history and decided, yep, that’ll do. A table was pushed against the wall, littered with blood-covered tools and weapons. There was no point trying to use them—they were spelled to their owners. Seeing as Emilio no longer existed in any plane, they’d likely rot there for the rest of eternity.

Small torches flickered on the three stone walls, casting ominous shadows over the space. The shadows didn’t bother me. It was what shone in the light that you needed to be afraid of. Those things that didn’t need to hide, because they knew there was no escaping them.

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