Page 138 of Reaper's Ruin
“Soraya,” he whispered against my hair, pressing a kiss to my head as he held me tight. “I’m so sorry this happened.”
“It’s okay,” I whispered, looking up into those storm-grey eyes swirling with dark shadows, my fingers tracing the line of his jaw. “I understand. You have to do this. You can’t fight them all. I don’t want you to risk yourself for me. I don’t want you to face oblivion. Just kiss me one last time, then promise me when I’m gone that you’ll find your peace. Promise me, Rhyker.”
He remained silent, his eyes never leaving mine as he slid his hand down my face.
One last kiss.
One last moment to feel that passion between us strong enough to cross realms, cross life and death. Passion I knew wouldn’t follow me into oblivion, but passion I would cherish in these last moments of my existence.
Agony ripped me apart from the inside out. This was it. This was the end. One kiss. One last moment of exquisite pleasure. Then, in moments, his scythe would form, and I would be gone. Erased completely from existence.
I’m sorry, mom. I love you.
His hands framed my face, his touch achingly gentle. My eyes closed as he leaned down, capturing my lips in a kiss that stole my breath and ignited my soul. There was desperation in that kiss, and determination. It was fierce and unyielding.
I let it shatter me. Let it break me. Let it unravel every part of my soul knowing this would be the last thing I felt in this strange existence of mine.
When we finally broke apart, both breathing hard, he rested his forehead against mine.
“I’m ready,” I breathed. “I don’t regret a minute I got to spend with you. You were the highlight of my life... and afterlife. I love you, Rhyker. Just promise me, you’ll find your peace. I need to hear you say it.”
He pressed his forehead to mine. “I can’t make that promise because I’m not going to reap you, my love. I could never end you, my beautiful Soraya,” he whispered, his voice rough with emotion. “And I’m going to get you out of here.”
I stared at him, shock and hope warring in my chest. “Wait... what? But how? Sevrin said—”
“Sevrin talks too much,” Rhyker growled. “And underestimates me greatly.”
He stepped back, reaching into his cloak and withdrawing another—smaller, but identical to the one the other Reapers wore. “Put this on,” he said, holding it out to me. “It won’t fool anyone looking closely, but it might help us get through the less attentive guards.”
I took the Reaper’s cloak with trembling hands, slipping it over my shoulders. It settled around me with surprising weight, the hood large enough to cast my face in darkness.
“Rhyker,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “The Veil Lords... they’ll know. They’ll come after us. You can’t fight them all. I won’t risk you getting obliterated for me.”
A grim smile curved his lips. “Well, if you get obliterated I’ll be begging them to do the same to me, so don’t you think we both deserve a fighting chance?”
I bit my lip, peering up at him from beneath the hood of my cloak. “I really wish you’d just promise me you’ll find peace and move on. Just reap me and save yourself.”
“There’s no peace in any life that will come for me if I can’t save you. We are going to make a run for it, and if we can get past the gates of the Keep, I can slice us away into Faelora.”
“And then what? Won’t they be able to find us again?”
“Probably,” he said, shrugging. “But that’s a problem for later. For now, let’s just get you out of here. Taelon and some of his friends will create a distraction. The moment we hear it, we hurry for the gate.”
I glanced out into the hallway, fear and excitement crashing inside me. “Are you sure? You really want to risk the scythe for me?”
He smiled. A full smile. Such a rare and beautiful thing. It lit me up like the fires of eternity themselves burned inside me. “I would risk everything for you, Soraya. Don’t you understand that yet?”
A tear slipped down my cheek as I nodded. “I do. And I’ll risk everything for you.”
He leaned down and pressed a kiss to my lips, soft and tender. “Then let’s risk it all together.”
“Together,” I said, slipping my hand into his.
Maybe, against all odds, Death and the soul he loved could find their way to freedom.
CHAPTER THIRTY
Rhyker
