Page 89 of Reaper's Ruin
But neither of us had said anything. What was there to say? She was a soul seeking her door. I was the Reaper who should have ended her existence. We were never meant to be anything to each other.
And now this revelation—that she was half-fae—complicated things even further.
Her eyes lifted, meeting mine with a knowing smile. “You’re staring.”
I looked away, uncomfortable with being caught. “Just thinking.”
“About what?”
About you.
“This list,” I said instead. “It’s our only lead. If your name is on it, we need to know why—and who else they’re targeting. That can help us find the common thread.”
She nodded, pushing away from the table to stand beside me at the window. “You still think Prince Alaric is behind it? That his advisors are just following orders?”
“It would make sense. Clear away all potential rivals before his coronation.”
“But why would I be a rival? I didn’t even know this world existed until I died.”
I shrugged. “Perhaps they feared you might discover your heritage and return to make a claim. Fae are ruthless and play the long game when it comes to power.”
“And how would I be connected to the Storm Court at all? Is it possible my father was—” She hesitated, searching for the right words. “Could he have been a Realm Walker who met my mother in the Mortal Realm, and then later, Lord Cassius was sent to eliminate me? Or is it possible its...” She closed her eyes for a beat like the thought was too painful to process. “Is it possible Lord Cassiusismy father?”
My heart clenched at the hurt in her eyes as they searched mine for answers I didn’t have. All I could do was answer, “It’s possible.”
“We need that list,” she said with renewed determination. “Or we could just grab Lord Cassius tonight and rip the answers from him.”
I shook my head. “Too risky. If someone realizes he’s missing before morning, the castle will go on lockdown. They’ll search every room. And if we get caught interrogating a royal...” I let the implication hang. “We’d never get back in to finish this. We need to be smart about this.”
“So we find the list first,” she said slowly, “get as much information as we can...”
“Then we grab him. Once we know what we’re dealing with, we can plan the interrogation properly. Make sure we have somewhere secure to take him where we won’t be interrupted.” My eyes darkened. “Where I can take my time getting every answer.”
I hated how much I loved the dark look that filled her eyes. “I love it. We have a plan. Now we need to figure out how to get to that list.”
“I’ve been thinking about that.” I turned to fully face her. “Tonight is the final celebration before tomorrow’s coronation. The castle will be hosting the grand fireworks display. Everyone will be in the gardens or on the balconies, watching the sky.”
Understanding dawned in her eyes. “The perfect time to search Lord Cassius’s chambers.”
I nodded. “The servants will be busy attending the guests. The guards will be focused on the crowd. I’ll slip away during the commotion.”
“Perfect.” She smiled, that spark of adventure lighting her eyes. The expression made something twist in my chest—a sensation both painful and pleasant. “I’ll create a distraction if needed.”
“Let’s hope that won’t be necessary.”
“Still.” Her smile widened. “I’m getting pretty good at this whole spy thing, don’t you think? Soraya Peterman, Nursing Student and International Woman of Mystery.”
I didn’t understand the reference, but her lightness was contagious. The corner of my mouth twitched despite my best efforts to maintain my stoic expression.
She caught it immediately. “Was that almost a smile, Reaper? Careful. People might think you’re enjoying yourself.”
“Gods forbid,” I muttered, but there was no heat in it.
Her laugh, bright and genuine, filled the space between us. For a moment, I could almost forget the impossible complications of our situation—that she was half-fae, that I was a Reaper who had spent centuries hating her kind, that any connection between us was doomed from the start because I was also the Reaper sent to erase her.
Almost.
Every moment I spent with her made me forget that she’d eventually get her door. That any second now she’d find peace and it would crack open, taking her away from me. She’d been dead over a week now, though, and we’d always been told after two weeks, if a soul hadn’t moved on, it wouldn’t.
