Page 89 of Court of Heathens

Her name.

He once told me breaking the deal would kill her, but if anything, I think it has killed him.

“Demon, pull it together,” I order.

“Freya is gone.” He looks at me, his eyes burning with hatred and vengeance, and I am reminded just what he is capable of. Things could end badly for this world. “You let them kill her.”

“She killed herself,” I snarl as his hand wraps around my throat, and I show him. He must know, he has to know, and I can’t bear to speak it. When it’s over, he slumps, all of his energy gone.

“My little witch.” It’s a sorrowful cry.

“I know.” I lay my arm across his back, tugging him close even as he pushes at me before he slumps and begins to cry.

I know he loves her, but seeing the proof brings tears to my eyes. If she were here, she’d want me to help him. She’d want me to look after him. I failed her, but I won’t fail her again. I can do this. I can bring us back together.

It’s the only shot we have.

Cupping his half-burnt face, I peer into his eyes. “Shh, I have you. We can bring her back, brother. I know we can, but I need your help.”

“She’s gone.” His voice is sadder than I have ever heard it. Everything the little witch instilled in him, all that love and laughter, is gone, and in its place is the supernatural creature made for death and murder.

“Not forever, I know it. If you look past your pain, you will feel it too. There is a chance, but I cannot do this alone.” I press my forehead to his, searching his eyes. “She needs us. Will you help me bring her back?”

“You think you can?” he asks, hope blooming in his eyes as his skin starts to heal.

“I have to try.” Standing, I offer him my hand.

He looks up at my face, swallowing hard before he gives me his taloned hand—a demon and a god making a pact.

“I will do anything to bring her back. Let’s do it.”

“As would I.” I clench his hand tightly. “Now let’s make our family whole again.”

CHAPTER 48

The burns across my body slowly start to heal. I almost wish they wouldn’t. I wish I had a physical scar to make sense of the pain running through me like a current. I simply become a machine, a living live wire of pain wandering at Phrixius’s side. Both of us cling to a tiny shard of hope that her soul exists somewhere in this world and we can bring her back.

I know death is not set in stone, but part of me is screaming inside that she’s gone.

I cannot feel her.

That’s what it is. For as long as I can remember, I have felt her at my side, heard her voice, and even bathed in her warmth, and now it’s just gone, taken from me like she never existed. I made a deal to save a necromancer, but she was the one who saved me. I am nothing without my little witch.

If she cannot be brought back, then I will join her in death so we can be together again.

I would do anything for one more quiet morning at her side, just sitting in silence and watching her brew. I’d give anything to see her aim an exasperated smile at me or sigh and curl into my arms. It’s not the mayhem we caused, nor the big, exciting days Iwish for . . . . It’s the little things that made up our lives together, that made me love her. Love is a human emotion, but it’s so potent that I understand it now. It’s memories, tiny snips of almost unimportant time, yet they change you in a fundamental way. Every smile, kiss, touch, and moment make up a life we shared and a bond that I will simply cease to exist without.

I formed myself around Freya, and without my anchor, I am nothing, just an empty shell of a demon thrown into the pits, denied warmth and love.

If I knew how important she would be to me the moment I made that deal all those years ago, I’d still make the same choice because it gave me her. It gave me more happiness than a vile, evil creature like me deserves.

I am lost in my thoughts when Phrixius grabs my hand. Usually, I would hate the physical contact, but I find myself clinging to it, needing something to hold me to this world when I feel like I am sinking into the ground. “We will bring her back.” He sounds so sure, but I see worry in his eyes.

He is lost just like me and holding on to the hope he can bring her back. Edging it all is a madness I understand. It seems losing Freya has corrupted the once moral god.

“What would you do to achieve that?” I ask.

“Anything,” he replies, and my eyebrow rises. “I mean it, anything. I do not care what it takes or how long. I will bring her back.”

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