Page 57 of A Shadow in the Reaping
"That doesn't sound ominous at all," I say, my heart dropping into my stomach as I pull myself up to sit facing him. I don't cover my chest as I figure boobs can only help. His eyes linger on my breasts and I can see him try to subdue the flame of desire in his eyes as they meet mine once more and he clenches his jaw.
Note to self: Reaper likes boobs.
I roll away off the bed to retrieve my journal and pen from the floor. I give him plenty of time to take in the rest of my body before I turn around and write a note about the boobs in my collection.
Addendum: also ass.
I fold the journal closed and throw it and the pen on the edge of the bed, then stalk across the silken sheets like a predator. I hear the whoosh of blood through the caverns and crevices of Ashen's heart and I smile as I draw closer.
"Fuck," he whispers, dragging a hand through his hair as he tries to conquer his urges. I prowl past his legs and close the book, tossing it on the floor with a heavy thud. I climb up the length of tattoos that flow from his abdomen to his neck.
"You had something you wanted to discuss?" I whisper in his ear as my hand starts to trail a slow path down his chest, down the ridges of muscle across his stomach.
Ashen growls with frustration and catches my wrist. "We need to talk aboutEmber.”
I sigh and sit back, resting my body on his leg. I drape my arm across his knees so I can lean my head on my hand. "That is such a buzzkill," I tease.
"Ember usually is. She's had several millennia of practice," Ashen says, and sweeps some hair back from my shoulder. "What did she want?"
"To force me into helping her make a hybrid of her own, then ferry it to the Realm of Light and release vengeance or some shit," I reply, catching Ashen's hand to hold it in my lap.
"And the soul she brought, you knew her?"
"She was my sister, Molpe. Ember said she knew where Aglaope's soul was and that she could bring her back to life. Can she do that?"
Ashen's eyes darken and he looks down at our joined hands. "Yes, potentially. She could petition to bring her back as a Reaper, but she doesn’t have the power to do it herself."
I don't want to think about what Aglaope would make of that if she were still alive. Maybe it would be better than being a wandering soul trapped in this place. Or maybe it would be better for me to kill her for good, like I did with Molpe. Ashen squeezes my hand and I meet his eyes with a faint and melancholic smile.
"She said if I didn't help her, that she would bring you into it too. Something about Rosaria Wyre."
Ashen's eyes widen before he heaves a heavy sigh of dismay. He tilts his head back against the headboard. "Fucking hell. I cannot believe she knows about that."
"In the short time I've known her, I get the feeling there's not much that goes on among the Reapers that Ember doesn't know about."
"Astute observation," Ashen says, bending his head as he presses the fingers of his free hand to his forehead. His gaze is trapped in our joined palms as he loses himself in thought.
I roll his hand back and forth across my lap, drawing his attention back to me. "Tell me what happened," I say, waiting as he gathers his thoughts.
"There was discussion among the Council of reaping Rosaria. She had consolidated significant power and had a network of connections deep into werewolf ancestral packs. They felt she was becoming too political, too much of a threat to the balance of the smaller clans."
"You have a Council?" I ask, and Ashen smiles. "I thought you all just, I dunno, made shit up as you went along."
"No, that's the Council's job," Ashen says and I laugh. "They were moving to make a decision. I fabricated evidence against one of the other packs to protect her. As much as she was powerful, she kept a balance that had been hard for werewolves to maintain. She played an important role, and I felt that power did not equate to crime."
I take in a heavy lungful of air and watch Ashen for a moment. I squeeze his hand. "Did you love her?"
Ashen's eyes seem to hold onto my words as he looks to the light that reflects on the fibers of the sheets. "No. We were lovers for a while. I cared for her, but I wasn'tin lovewith her. It ran its course. We went our separate ways a few years ago."
I watch as he loses his thoughts to memories I will never know. There's something greater buried under this loss. I can feel it, deep beneath the strata of time. I wonder if he'll ever let me in enough to see it, or if it's simply a pain he cannot bear. But I know about unbearable pain, unspeakable loss. I know better than to pry into anyone's past.
"I'm sorry that you lost someone you cared about," I say, and Ashen's eyes meet mine. He looks as though I've said something unexpected that he didn't know he needed to hear. He pulls my hand and I follow the motion, laying the weight of my body against his chest.
"Thank you," he whispers. His fingertips trace every ridge of my spine. Down and up. Down and up. "I need to find the brickworks where the last hybrid was kept and figure out what else it is Semyon is looking for. He must be stopped before he regroups and gets to Valentina or Cassian."
"Or me," I say. Ashen's hands press on my shoulders and he lifts me away so he can look into my eyes. That same fierce expression from the first time in the cauldrons is embedded in his gaze, the one that says he will tear the world apart.
"No. I will not let him get close to you," he says.
