Page 35 of Guarded By the Reaper

Grim

I held Millie in my arms, marveling at how perfectly she fit against me. The morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a gentle glow across the room. As I looked down at her sleeping face, it was hard to believe that someone like her – vibrant and full of life – would want someone like me – an undead man stitched together by magic and darkness.

With cautious fingers, I traced the outline of her jaw, delighting in the sensation of her skin under my touch. I could feel the way she inhaled deeply, her chest rising and falling. Her delicate features were relaxed, and for a moment, I allowed myself to wonder what it would be like if this morning could stretch on forever. My cloak wrapped around us, concealing our nakedness. The weight of the fabric was comforting, especially knowing that it protected Millie from her nightmares. The feeling of her skin against mine was intoxicating.

I’d seen countless beautiful women in my years as a Reaper, but none of them compared to Millie. Her beauty wasn’t just in her appearance. It was in her kindness, her strength, her determination to protect her sister at any cost. It was her character that made her shine brighter than anyone I’d ever met. And now here she was, in my arms, giving herself to a creature like me…

Part of me wanted to wake her up, so I could see those beautiful blue eyes of hers looking at me again with the affection she’d showed me last night. But I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I couldn’t be so selfish when she needed to rest so badly. I kept still, content to be her makeshift pillow.

A sharp hissing sound broke the stillness of the bedroom, snapping me out of my reverie. My body tensed. In the middle of the room, a dark, twisted silhouette began to take shape. I satup straight, waking Millie in the process. She stirred next to me, groggy and disoriented, clutching the cloak around her, but as she followed my gaze to the intruder, she froze.

The figure solidified into a grotesque creature, malformed and unnatural, and I knew immediately it was one of Death’s messengers. I called them Death’s pets, and this one was of the more hideous variety, as if all the horrors of man and beast had been twisted together, creating something that barely fit into the mortal plane. Its head was that of a ram’s, crowned with spiraling horns, and its crimson eyes glowed with an eerie light. Where its torso should have been humanoid, pale scales glinted instead, catching the morning light in patches. Its arms were mismatched, one ending in a hawk’s talon, the other in a lion’s paw.

“Grim Reaper, you have been summoned by the Breathless,” it spoke.

Millie shrunk beside me. “The Breathless?”

“It’s another name for Death,” I said, not taking my eyes off the creature.

“Death? As in… the actual Death?”

The messenger’s focus was on Millie, its burning eyes locking onto her with what I could only describe as impatience.

“Bring the woman with you.”

Instinctively, I pulled Millie closer to me, wrapping my arm around her. An unnatural fear coursed through me, thinking that Death might have plans for Millie that I didn’t know about.

“What?” I snapped at the creature. “Why?”

Its form flickered, dark smoke curling around its mismatched limbs, until it dissolved into a cloud of black, swirling mist, its red eyes the last to disappear.

“Those are the orders,” it said before it vanished completely.

I watched as Millie’s face drained of color. She clung to me, her fingers digging into my arm with surprising strength.

“Why does Death want to see me?” she asked. “I’m not ready, Grim. I need to say goodbye to Elysia. I can’t…”

I pulled her close. “Nothing’s going to happen to you,” I promised, hoping I sounded more confident than I felt. “The Breathless probably just wants to ask about your deal with Ma-Vasha.”

She looked up at me, confusion in her eyes. “But why?”

I sighed, running a hand over my skull. “Yesterday, I went to see Death, but they refused to meet with me. Looks like they changed their mind.”

“You went to see Death?!” Millie’s eyebrows shot up. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t want to get your hopes up,” I admitted. “Death is the only one who might know how to get you out of this mess.”

Millie nodded slowly. She was still tense, but some of the panic had left her eyes.

“I need to let Elysia know we’ll be gone for a while,” she said.

“Of course. Take your time.”

I watched as Millie slipped out of the bed, her naked form catching the soft morning light that filtered through the curtains. Her skin seemed to glow, pale and perfect. She moved with a grace that seemed effortless, unaware of how captivating she was. As she got dressed, I couldn’t help but marvel at the curves of her body, the way her long black hair cascaded down her back. When she sat at her vanity to brush that glorious mane, I found myself mesmerized by the rhythmic motion of her arm, the way the brush glided through the silky strands.

How the hell did I get so lucky? A woman like Millie, giving a broken, undead thing like me the time of day? It didn’t make sense. Yet here we were.

“You’re staring,” Millie said, catching my eye in the mirror.

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