The heat in the Pit is becoming more intense. The Sea of Hands below shifts and moves like currents of lava flowing over each other.

The rubbing is causing a warm, tingly sensation, as if all my blood is rushing to the parts of my body that are pressed against him. My head begins to feel light. My breathing comes faster.

His breath speeds up to match mine, or maybe it’s the other way around. Before I know it, he’s nuzzling his head against my cheek. A low moan escapes his lips.

I shift without thinking, tightening my legs around his hips, pressing myself against him. He strokes the curve of my back, pressing me even closer to his warmth. I marvel at the sensation as he subtly shifts his body against mine.

He lowers his head while we’re flying and touches his lips to mine. His kiss is hot and wet as it intensifies.

My head seems to be rumbling. Then I realize it’s the sky. It’s thunder. Suddenly, warm raindrops fall on us, spraying us until we’re completely wet.

Raffe ignores it and continues to kiss me. We hold each other, pressing tighter and harder together.

We fly in each other’s arms in the rain over a smoldering hell.

Chapter 43

43

By the time we get back to the group, the Watchers have caught the rest of the hellions that we’ll need. A dozen hellions are tied up on the ground, flapping around and trying to gnaw through the thongs that tie them.

The Watchers eye us like they know what we’ve been up to. As soon as we land, I hop off and step away from Raffe. I’m glad it’s so hot that I won’t have to explain why my face is so red.

Raffe immediately gets down to business. He explains what needs to be done to ride a hellion out of the Pit and what we might find on the other side. He doesn’t seem at all embarrassed that they assume we made out.

He then talks to the hellions. ‘Take us to the other side.’ He motions along Pooky’s blade and uses his hand to show a sliding motion into the sky.

A hellion hisses at him, all sharp teeth and hate.

Cyclone steps forward. ‘They need a firm hand, Commander.’ He looms over the hellions. ‘Do what we tell you, or you die.’ He makes a tearing motion with his hands.

A hellion pisses at him, squirting a yellow-green stream of foul-smelling liquid that Cyclone barely avoids.

The other hellions seem to snicker. Cyclone leans in, looking like he’s going to strangle them, but Raffe stops him.

I step forward. Let’s see how they respond if they’re treated like I would want to be in their place.

‘Freedom,’ I say.

The hellions look sideways at me.