Page 39 of Destined to the Reaper

My mother snorted. “Grizelle is most displeased. She’s roaming over every battlefield to try and compensate for your loss.”

“I was never meant to be her meal,” I ground through my teeth.

She looked at me with an unreadable expression before slowly nodding. “You are correct. But you kept her eternal hunger at bay for centuries. People never take kindly to losing a privilege they’ve come to consider their due.”

“Like Cornelius,” I replied grimly, understanding her underlying meaning.

She dropped her hand from my chest and nodded with a serious expression. “This isn’t done yet, my son.”

“I know,” I said with a sigh. “But the first and most crucial step is finally done. Thank you.”

She waved a dismissive hand. “You knew I would eventually get you out.”

I tilted my head to the side while giving her an assessing look. “Yes. I figured you would. But why now?”

“I needed to find the person able to help you,” she said with a shrug.

“It took you five hundred years?” I asked with disbelief devoid of any anger.

“The potential candidates were much too likely to keep you for themselves. And none of them were your soulmate,” Mother said matter-of-factly.

“So sheismy soulmate!” I exclaimed, my heart soaring.

“Of course, she is. You know that,” she replied as if I’d said something silly and obvious.

“I suspected,” I replied in a slightly defensive tone. “I felt it the very first time I met her. Kali has such a beautiful soul. It’s mesmerizing.”

“A soul that you don’t own,” she countered in a disapproving tone while running a hand over her endless, silver-white braid.

I stiffened, worry immediately swelling within me. My mother never said anything just to make small talk. If you were wise, you noted every single thing she alluded to. It usually was the difference between life and death.

But what more does she want with my mate?

“I eventually will,” I retorted sternly. “Kali needs more time.”

“You don’t have it,” she snapped, her sudden mood swing taking me aback.

“What do you mean?” I asked. “I have taken her to the Shadow Realms. She’s safe from Cornelius.”

“Shemay be, for now. Butyouare not.”

I heaved a sigh again, frustrated that even now the necromancer continued to poison my life. “Yes, I know. I need my scythe back. I have a few days to plan—”

“Two days, Pharos,” my mother said in a tone that brooked no argument, interrupting me. “You only have two days.”

“What?! Why?” I exclaimed. “It will take him more time to gather all the reagents to compensate for my magic and to set things up for the inevitable battle he knows I will bring to him.”

“No, my son,” she said with a conviction that twisted my insides. “You only have two days because of the manticore heart you helped him acquire. There’s a reason Cornelius has been hiding things from you. The manticore was the final ingredient he needed to permanently bind you to him. If he succeeds, not only will you never be free again, you will in fact cease to exist while he will retain all your powers.”

I took an involuntary step back, shock and horror swelling through me.

“This cannot be allowed, Pharos,” she said, her face expressing the closest thing I’d ever seen to distress from her.

My mother never showed her softer emotions. She would shower you with sarcasm, disdain, and anger, but would express her affection and tenderness in very subtle ways. That she would allow herself to display any type of vulnerability had all my senses go into high alert.

“The fact that he’d been able to use your powers for so long has already significantly upset the balance,” my mother explained. “The manticore should have lived. His thread was not meant to be severed like this. That in turn has had a domino effect on many other threads that will now no longer be woven, that got cut short, or completely derailed. To make matters worse, Cornelius intends to try to harness Charon, the same way he harnessed you.”

“Charon?! The Ferryman of the dead?!” I shouted.

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