Page 65 of Night of Death and Flowers

“Are you trying to get yourself killed?” a voice whispers against the top of my ear, and I freeze.

My heart pounds as Death’s hand lifts from my mouth, and I push against his biceps until he releases my body. I spin to face him, teeth chattering as my eyes bulge.

“You!”

“Me,” he mocks, his silver stare matching my intensity.

My hand darts to my hip, gripping the hilt of the dagger. “What are you doing here?”

He stills, his brows creasing as he stares at me with a chilling pointedness. “What did you do with them?”

“With whom?”

He closes the gap between us until I am shrouded in his shadow. “Do not play with me again. I will break our oath. I do not care.”

I look up, my chin grazing his hard chest. “Still threatening to kill me?” I laugh, then bring the blade to his throat because I have little to lose.

He leans into the blade, smirking. “Go ahead, Poison.”

“You’re fucking insane,” I say, half-laughing, pressing the blade deeper until droplets of blood form.

After a few moments of silence, he pushes the dagger away from his neck as if he is swatting a fly. “You need to leave,” he states.

“We’re not in Dahryst,” I point out. “It seems I was not the only one who wasn’t paying attention to the details during our deal.”

“You distracted me,” he growls. A vein in his temple throbs, and I trace my gaze over his chiseled features.

I watch him closely as he flexes his fingers, his untapped power swirling in those eyes, as if it may explode at any moment. “You look flustered.”

“I’ve had a bad night,” I spit, tightening my grip around the dagger.

He steps closer, swallowing any distance between us. Our fingers brush together, and his intense stare latches onto mine. “You will leave here now. I will take you to shore.”

“Why do you care if I am here?” I ask and take a step back, my heart pounding. “Just tell me about this damn prophecy. Does it have to do with The Harvest?”

He lowers his chin, glaring down at me, and for the first time, I see the ancient darkness in his silvery eyes, an evil so pointed and deadly that sends a chill to my bones. “Fine.” His tongue darts between his lips, wetting them. “Do you think me a monster, Poison?” he drawls.

“Yes.”

“Then the last thing you want is for the other gods to awaken.”

I blink twice, the statement throwing me back “Awaken?”

He casts a glance at the sky, then snaps back to me. “Yes. That is why your presence here is dangerous. Not just for me, but for you, too.”

My brows knit together as I stare at Death, my lips slowly parting, barely a breath passing through them as I mull over his words.

I glance around the unforgiving forest of gray, and the frost-bitten skeletal leaves hanging from knotted branches. “So the gods are here,” I conclude.

He leans forward, the warmth of his body so close to mine, just inches away… His eyes are alight with flecks of black and shadow as he whispers a truth that runs my blood cold. “Yes.”

My mind fuzzes as I gaze upward at Azkiel, searching his stoic expression and finding no evidence of a lie. “How are they here? Why are they asleep? What does the prophecy have anything to do with me? Is my name explicitly used?”

“No, but—”

“Then it describes me?”

“Yes,” he growls, impatience threading the twitches over his face. “It is said a witch, a daughter of creation, doomed by death, will awaken my siblings.”

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