Page 51 of Reaper's Ruin
What indeed. I was already risking everything for this one human soul. A few acts of theft hardly seemed significant in comparison.
But as I watched her laugh, her eyes bright with life despite everything she’d lost, I knew I would do far worse than stealing to keep her safe. To keep her existence intact.
And that realization was more terrifying than anything the Veil Lords could throw at me.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Soraya
I’d just met a Reaper. Well, another one besides Rhyker.
And Taelon was hot. Objectively, undeniably hot. The kind of hot that would have short-circuited my brain back when I was alive. If I’d met him at a bar in Minneapolis, I’d have stumbled over my words, done something embarrassing and awkward, then sprinted out of the bar texting my friend that I’d met a total smokeshow, humiliated myself and needed to find a new bar to hang out because I could never show my face there again.
With his tall, athletic build, sharp jawline, and hair pulled back in that half-up style that some guys just couldn’t pull off, but he absolutely did, Taelon looked like he’d stepped straight off the set of a Viking show. He had that rugged warrior thing going on—intense eyes that crinkled at the corners when he smiled, facial scruff that was just the right length, and an easy confidence that said he knew exactly how attractive he was without being obnoxious about it.
Were all Reapers hot? Or had I just happened to stumble onto the only two hot reapers in this Shadowveil they talked about?
Taelon had that charming rogue thing going for him—mischievous grin, easy swagger, the kind of guy who’d flirt with your grandma just to make her day and make her blush. In life, I would’ve melted. In life, I always picked the safe ones. The good guys. Guys like Taelon.
Stephan over Damon. Dean over Jess. Jacob over Edward. I mean, sure, in my favorite romance novels I swooned over the bad boy with the soft side, but in real life, I’d have run screaming from him.
But apparently, dying had scrambled my wiring. Because now?
I only had eyes for the scariest Reaper in existence.
A walking, talking real life Shadow Daddy as dark and dangerous as any fictional man I’d read about.
The guy every other Reaper called Death like it was his damn title.
As hot as Taelon was, and as funny and charming and witty like my living body would have wanted, my little dead girl heart only seemed to beat for the biggest, baddest Reaper of them all.
What the hell was wrong with me?
“We should find a place to sleep,” Rhyker said, his deep voice jolting me from my inappropriate thoughts. “It’s getting late.”
The shadows had lengthened across Centralia, the golden light of late afternoon giving way to the soft blues of evening. My physical body, this strange magical shell I now inhabited, was reminding me of its needs. Hunger. Exhaustion. The dull ache in my feet from walking all day.
“Yes, please,” I agreed, stifling a yawn. “I’m dead on my feet.” I paused, then snorted at my own accidental pun. “Pun absolutely intended.”
Rhyker gave me that look—the one that suggested he found me somewhere between amusing and bewildering. I was starting to live for those looks.
He led us to a small inn at the edge of the market district. The building leaned slightly, as if centuries of existence had made it tired, but the windows glowed with warm light and the smell of roasting meat drifted from within.
Rhyker approached the innkeeper, negotiating in low tones while I waited by the hearth, warming my hands. The fire felt so good against my skin. It was still strange to feel things again—temperature, texture, the weight of my own body. I hadn’t realized how much I’d taken sensation for granted when I was alive.
“We have a room,” Rhyker said, returning to my side. “Upstairs.”
I looked up at him, suddenly aware of the implication. “A room? As in, singular?”
“It’s all they had,” he said flatly. “And it took the last of our money.”
“Oh.” My stomach did a little flip.
One room.
With Rhyker.
I’d read countless books with the one-bed trope. I’d stayed up extra late, flipping pages faster and faster to get to that moment they had to share a bed. The delicious tension. The scalding close proximity. The moment all that pent up sexual tension finally exploded, leaving me squealing with joy as I’d devour those tantalizing pages.
