Page 8 of Stolen By the Reaper

My fingers shook as I ran a hand over the jeans and blouses. Sensible shoes sat in neat little rows at the bottom. For somereason, seeing my things tucked into the fancy wood made the reality of everything settle deep in my bones.

This wasn’t some extended fever dream. It was real.

And I was dead.

Wordlessly, I rolled my shoulder to bump my reaper away. I didn’t look behind me to see where he went as I tugged my hair out of the updo I’d worn for the wedding and reached for my own clothes.

The denim felt as luxurious as the silk from moments ago, and my soft tee settled against my skin like a hug. I slid the borrowed shoes off my feet and swapped them for my trusty black boots.

Finally dressed in something I recognized, I took a deep breath and straightened my spine.

I found Azrael lounging in a plush leather seat, now dressed in a trim black suit with the top buttons of his shirt undone. The flames in his eyes flared a fraction as I took him in, but his expression betrayed nothing.

“Shall we?” He rose to his feet and held out his hand.

“Thank you,” I said grudgingly as I slid my hand into his, “for the clothes.”

I swallowed my squeak when he tugged me forward and into a spin. I rocked to a stop with his arms around me like we were about to begin a waltz. Heat bloomed under the palm resting on the small of my back. The hand holding mine raised my arm, and he bent down to brush his lips against my skin.

“You are quite welcome. But I will admit, Josephine,” his smile was positively wolfish as he drew out the syllables of my name, “your body was made for the black silk.”

I groaned and started to pull away. The arm around my waist tensed, holding me against the hard planes of his body. Then his lips crashed into mine.

A gasp parted my lips, and his tongue swept in. He tasted like a bonfire in the woods at midnight, and I found myself melting against him. My hand slid from his grasp, only to settle against the hard muscle of his chest.

Azrael pulled me tighter against him with a growl. The world twisted and blurred somewhere in the deep background, but I was too focused on the heat of his body, the hand sliding into my hair, the fingers digging into the meat of my ass, to care.

More. I wanted more. I wanted to banish the kisses I should have been sharing with Alain on our honeymoon. I wanted to chase away the pain and humiliation of learning my betrothed planned to kill me for his own selfish gain.

Besides, why shouldn’t I lose myself in the stranger who’d saved me?

CHAPTER FOUR

JOSEPHINE

We came to an abrupt stop. I stumbled, and Azrael released his hold. He stayed close, not moving a single inch away. The flames of his eyes bloomed from the sides of his face as he peered down at me.

I’d kissed him. Truly kissed him. Not the shock brush of lips while we fell through realities. Not as a dream. He’d taken my lips in another surprise that turned pleasant.

Azrael’s throat bobbed with his swallow. “Duty calls, Josephine.”

I pressed my fingertips to my swollen lips as he stepped back. I blinked around, and whatever spell he held over me vanished.

Sunlight filtered through the canopy of trees and dappled the ground with shifting patterns. A gentle breeze rustled the leaves, carrying the distant sound of birdsong. It was so achingly normal that, for a moment, I forgot about demons and reapers and blood sacrifices.

“The Loop,” I whispered, my voice catching in my throat.

Azrael canted his head. “You know this place?”

“I work here.” My eyes burned as I took in the clearing. “Or... worked, I guess.”

I’d spent countless hours assisting EcoSphere’s latest urban restoration project. We’d cleared trails and reintroduced native plants, carved out space for pollinators, and updated human amenities. It was my sanctuary, a place where I felt most alive and connected to the world around me.

Now, standing here as a... ghost? Soul? Whatever I was, it felt like a cruel joke.

Then I spotted a shock of red hair near the pond. Minnie. My coworker from EcoSphere. My friend. She was crouched by the water’s edge, likely cataloging the aquatic plant life we’d introduced last spring.

I took an involuntary step forward, desperate to connect with something—someone—familiar. Azrael’s hand clamped down on my shoulder, halting my movement.

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