Page 11 of Stolen By the Reaper

Despite the absolutely bonkers... everything, I felt the corners of my mouth twitch at the halting tone. I could practically hear him hauling each word, kicking and screaming, out of his throat. What sort of existence did he live, that a simple explanation would be such a Herculean task?

But there was still a glaring question to be answered.

“Does it have something to do with the claim on me?” I wanted to laugh. Those words, strung together and making sense? I wanted it to be a nightmare. A fever dream. Anything other than my reality.

The question swung his blazing attention back to me. His features grew grim, and he inclined his head. “It’s possible your presence influenced my assignment, yes.”

“Oh.” It was my turn to avert my eyes. I stared at the shambling figures of the ghosts, unsure what else to say.

Or do.

Lethargy clung suddenly to my limbs.

I liked plans. Solutions. Building toward a goal. EcoSphere gave me that in our park projects. My few relationships were always with a long-term future in mind. And now I lived a life where I didn’t know the basic rules.

“Is this what will happen to me?” Lost soul that I was.

“No,” he snapped. His fingers grasped my chin, dragging my face up. Those emerald flames danced wildly as he peered down at me. “That will never be your fate. I will not allow it.”

I swallowed hard at the steel in his voice. “Why?”

“Because you are mine.”

CHAPTER FIVE

AZRAEL

The last wavering glimpses of Josephine asleep in my chambers faded as I materialized in the Echoing Hollow. She’d been so exhausted after expelling so much magic and witnessing the fate of lost souls. She hadn’t fought when I tucked blankets around her tempting frame.

Shadows twisted with the flickering of flames deep within the cavern ahead. Hands reached from the edges of the path, guiding the steps of any who dared seek to know their fate.

I clenched my jaw, fighting the urge to cover my ears. Murmuring whispers filled the air. The fragments were a maddening tangle of past, present, and future, impossible to distinguish.

Fucking seers and their melodramatic lairs. I hated this place.

I checked my wards for the hundredth time. The bonds held firm, but being this far from Josephine set my teeth on edge.

Easing that tension had been the whole reason for bringing her on the disastrous journey above. Darkest hells, I should have suspected something would go wrong. Clauneck wasn’t one to allow slights to pass unanswered.

Her display at the park had been beyond my wildest expectations.

She shouldn’t have been able to break through my illusion. Once a soul is determined to be taken, once the reaper has the soul in their grasp, nothing should interfere. Especially not a mere human.

And yet...

“The threads of fate dance a new pattern, Reaper.” Veridian’s voice cut through the din. “Your visit is... unexpected.”

My skin tingled as I stepped through the wards guarding the mouth of the seer’s cave. The pressure built, coiling tight against my neck and chest. The power was ancient, honed over untold ages and stronger than even the demons themselves.

I suppressed the shiver of unease creeping down my spine and fixed my face into a bored expression. “Spare me the act, Veridian. You knew I was coming.”

The seer turned from where she worked an impossibly large loom. Her white, pupilless eyes bore into me, seeing beyond skin and bone, peeling back layers until nothing remained but raw, uncomfortable truth.

“Perhaps.” A smile played at the corners of her mouth. “But the threads have been... restless lately. Particularly around you.”

I didn’t like the implications of that statement. “I need answers.”

“Don’t we all?” She bent back to her loom, her silver hair haloing around her head like a ghostly crown. “Tell me, Reaper, what troubles you so deeply that you’d brave the Echoing Hollow? Could it be the stolen sacrifice that has the realm abuzz?”

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