Page 54 of Immortal Throne

“You’re half human.”

“Hardly grounds to claim moral superiority.”Has he seen humans lately?

“But it’s true for you.”

Gah. He was right. “How do I know you won’t drop me in the magma instead of helping me?” He couldn’t boast the same mortal morals like me, after all.

“Simple.”

I waited.

“I need you to get the rope. You can’t trust me to look out for you, but you can trust I’ll look out for myself, and you’re my ticket out of here.”

“Fine.”

He waved his hand at me, and I stepped over to the side. If he misjudged the jump, he could knock us both over into the magma soup.

My heart thudded, hard and painful. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. Maybe I should just make a jump for the rope and hope I wouldn’t miss and my sweaty hands wouldn’t slip.

Before I had a chance to stop him, Ryker leapt from his perch and landed softly beside me with the grace of a fucking ballet dancer.

I scowled. He made that look entirely too easy.

“Okay, princess. You’re up.”

I let go of my perch and turned toward the dangling rope. It had a thick knot at the bottom. As long as I didn’t miss the rope entirely or somehow slip completely off, my feet could rest on the knot and prevent me from falling into the skin-boiling magma.

“Just…back your ass up.” Ryker opened his arms.

Instead of ripping into him, I did exactly as he directed. I was too hot and completely done with this trial already to fight or call him on his suggestive bullshit.

His hands came down on both sides of me, gripping my hips. His fingers dug in as I leaned forward.

My fingertips brushed the rough material of the rope. So close. Almost there. I leaned forward even more.

Ryker grunted behind me. His hands slipped a little and I shot forward. Not enough. The rope danced out of the way.

“Pull me back.”

Without argument, he did, bringing me close into the heat of his body. My insides were already getting boiled in this heat. I didn’t need—or want—the kind of warmth Ryker offered. My head swam. I needed water and space and about two more inches of arm.

“It’s not enough,” I said. “Do you think you can hold onto my hand without slipping? I’m a sweating mess, but I think I can get it if I reach for it sideways.”

“I won’t let you go,” he growled.

I wiped my sweaty palms on my shorts and held my left hand out to Ryker.

He gripped my wrist, his entire hand encircled my arm. I held onto his forearm as best I could and leaned over the bubbling magma.

The steam rose and stung my eyes. Sweat dripped from my face and arms. I strained forward over the bubbling magma, and my hand closed around the rope.

With my breath caught in my lungs, I pulled the rope close. Finally.

“My grip,” Ryker snarled.

My arm was slipping through his hands, and he grabbed for it with the other. His balance off, he lurched forward.

Time froze as he pitched forward toward me.

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