Page 62 of Destined to the Reaper

“Peace, my mate. All his well,” Pharos whispered in my ear, his arms tightening around me as if to keep me in place.

He kissed my temple, and I squeezed his wrists more firmly to try and calm myself down a bit. I jerked my head down as my clavicles appeared to push forward. My eyes widened as my skin split open, revealing discreet, softly rounded vertical ridges the length of my clavicles, as if the bone had become ribbed. If not for the fact that they were actual bones, from a distance, one could have mistaken them for scarification tattoos. A similar phenomenon occurred along my radius and ulna—the bones of my forearms. However, my skin didn’t split open there. The ridges merely formed an elegant pattern under the skin and the length of both forearms.

And with them came a tremendous amount of power. My jaw dropped, and my eyes widened as my senses expanded, and my fingers vibrated with the urge to cast Bone Magic. I could feel every being who possessed a skeleton, teeth, horns, or claws on a wide radius. Even without invoking my new powers, I knew beyond a doubt that I could effortlessly shift, break, or manipulate their bones like never before.

Alderan’s face split into a smug grin, giving me a glimpse of his sharp pair of double fangs.

“Enjoy your new powers, young Kali. You will find them quite entertaining. Should you have questions about them, have your mate bring you to me. I will gladly assist.”

“Thank you, my Lord,” I said, my voice betraying my awe and how intimidated I felt.

“Alderan,” he corrected firmly.

“Alderan,” I repeated, docile, my cheeks heating for no reason.

He chuckled with that same smugness laced with a taunting edge then turned his gaze towards my mate.

“Pharos,” he said as a farewell before glancing at Azrael. “Death.”

To my surprise, Azrael gave him a nod in response then slightly lifted his chin with a hint of defiance. The taunting smirk—subtle though it was—that stretched the Demon Lord’s lips screamed of a barely veiled rivalry. As if to confirm those suspicions, Alderan turned towards the Weaver. The way he strutted back to her, shifting his wings in a way that made him look bigger without flat out spreading them, and waving his tail in a slow and hypnotic fashion perfectly matched the way a wild beast would present for the prime female he coveted.

Although her expression remained mostly unreadable, I didn’t miss the discreet way the vertical slits of her pupils widened briefly as she gave him a quick once over before they narrowed again.

The Weaver didn’t hate what she was seeing.

I could see why. Everything about him screamed danger, and yet had an undeniable appeal. Many a woman would want to be caught by such a beast, knowing he could destroy her with a mere thought and tear her to shreds with his vicious claws and phenomenal strength. But also knowing he would treat her—just her—with the perfect mix of tenderness and savagery.

“You must let me visit you again soon, my Cliona. It’s been too long,” he said in a purring tone as he came to a stop in front of the Weaver. “Surely, you must miss me as much as I miss you.”

Technically, he was much too close, invading her personal space. She held his gaze unwaveringly, merely lifting an eyebrow in a way that hinted his request was absurd.

“Miss you?” she echoed with disbelief. “Have you forgotten how insufferable and obnoxious you are?”

“It is part of my charm,” he replied in that same purring tone while edging even closer to her. “You’ve always loved a bad boy. And you’re long overdue for giving me a daughter.”

She snorted and shook her head, looking almost flabbergasted. Although clearly not intending to give in to any of his requests, the Weaver didn’t back away or push him. She merely lifted her chin with an even greater air of defiance.

“First off, you never have daughters, only sons. Second, it will be at least another thousand years before I would even start missing your arrogant and overly entitled self.”

Pharos shifted behind me. I bit the insides of my cheek, imagining how uncomfortable it had to be to see a male openly coming on to his mother, and in front of his father no less.

“You wound me, my beloved,” the Demon Lord said, sounding totally unfazed. “But very well. A thousand years it is. You are well worth the wait. But should you change your mind prior, you know where to find me.”

Eyes locked with hers, Alderan grabbed a handful of her long, silver-white hair and let it glide through his fingers in a gentle caress. The sexual tension between them was almost palpable. Although she kept a neutral expression, he gave her that obnoxious smirk again before letting go of her hair. He took a step back, and the air around him blurred seconds before he vanished.

The Weaver lowered her eyes and pursed her lips. In that instant, my gut screamed at me that his smugness had been warranted. She had been tempted by his offer. I cast a sideways glance at Azrael to see how he was responding to seeing the mother of one of his children being openly flirted with by a more recent partner. His face was unreadable although it softened as Cliona approached us.

She came directly to me, an approving smile stretching her lips. “I searched a long time for you, Kali Jennings. And you did not disappoint. I leave my son in your care. Together, you will accomplish remarkable things. Do not underestimate the tremendous gifts that were bestowed upon you. Use them wiselybut without fear. You have a beautiful soul. Such powers would not have been given were you likely to abuse them.”

“Thank you for finding me and luring me here, to my soulmate,” I said, my throat constricted by emotion.

I glanced at Pharos over my shoulder, who was still holding me from behind. He smiled tenderly and kissed my temple.

“Thank you for heeding the call, Daughter,” Cliona simply replied.

She caressed my cheek, smiled at her son, then turned to face Azrael. I barely managed to repress my shock at the way she looked at him, mirrored on his own face. A deep affection—maybe even love—bound those two. And yet, I didn’t perceive the same wild and barely repressed lust between them that had shone bright with Alderan.

“You said you would save our son, and against all odds, you did,” Azrael said tenderly.

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