Chapter 14

CHAPTER 14

Zinnia

We rode for several hours, picking our way through the forest before, finally, we came to a small clearing. A stone building sat in the middle, not huge, but still a decent size. It was made of glittering steel-colored marble with vines wrapped around the columns on either side of the entrance and partially over the roof.

Death jumped down from the beast, grabbed me around the waist, and hauled me off after him. He'd been quiet the entire ride, barely saying more than a few words.

At first, I thought it was about his mother and what just happened and the fact he thought I'd disobeyed him, but now, I wasn't so sure. The rage that had radiated from him had receded, and something else had replaced it. Something that felt a lot like melancholy.

"What is this place?" I asked, standing beside him.

"Somnus and I spent most of our time here as children. I created it when I was very young. It was safe, warded, impenetrable by anyone but him and me and those we chose to grant admittance."

I studied his profile. The night sky swirled in his eyes, but again, there was no anger. They were wide, as if he was about to face something that frightened him. "Not even Nox?"

"Not even her."

So even as children, they'd avoided their twisted mother. "You created it? When you were just a child?"

"Yes."

He said no more and seemed to go somewhere else for a moment. I touched his arm. "Why are we here?"

"This is where Somnus is. His dream-self, anyway."

"Why would he come here, back to this realm, so close to Nox, even while he's asleep?"

"I'll show you," Death said and took my hand, leading me to the tall main doors.

They were damaged, the marble chipped and gouged. "Someone's been trying to get in."

Death's eyes swirled, and I felt his fury return. "Yes, but breaching them is impossible."

Whatever was in here had to be something important or powerful for Nox to be so desperate to get in. "That must piss Nox off."

"It does, but still she tries, and the fact Somnus and I have a temple in her realm and still she's denied admittance infuriates her."

Death slid my knife from the sheath strapped to my thigh, then sliced his forearm. He handed the knife back to me, then, dipping his finger in the blood dripping from the wound, drew a symbol on the door. The door rumbled, and a moment later, it swung open.

Taking my hand again, he led me through the massive doors, and I saw that the slice on Death's arm had already healed. The doors closed behind us, and I took in the room. Inside was vastly different than outside. Everything was pristine, lush couches and cozy blankets, vibrant colors.

"Did you and Somnus choose the furniture?"

"Yes, when we were very young. This was a refuge from our mother, so we made it as comfortable as we could. We created every piece in this temple," he said absently.

"You were powerful even as a small boy." Something was seriously wrong with Death; he didn't just give away information like that.

His hands hung loose at his sides, but they curled, his fists tight. "When you're a terrified child, it's amazing what you can accomplish."

My heart broke for him and Somnus. "You were here a lot?"

"Sometimes, we were in here for months, and sometimes, years at a time."

"Years?" I choked out.

The veins bulged in his forearms. "Nox created us because she was lonely. She wanted to know what it was like to love someone besides herself, but after we were born, she quickly returned to her default of using everything and everyone for her own gain. She sold Somnus regularly, bartered her small son in exchange for power." His lips curled in disgust, his eyes bright with fury. "She let other gods sleep beside him, let them piggyback off his power. He didn't have full control over it yet, so he didn't know how to distance himself from it. He was forced to see the twisted shit they did in the Dream Realm to others, and sometimes, they turned their twisted shit on him." His nostrils flared. "I made it so she couldn't get near him anymore, and as punishment, she stifled my powers in her realm so she'd always be stronger."

I felt sick to my stomach. How could she do that to her own children? "I'm so sorry. She really is a monster."

The muscle at the side of his jaw tightened. "More than you know."

He carried on through the main room and down a short hallway. Right at the end was another closed door. Death pressed his hand to it and whispered words I couldn't hear.

The door swung open, and he stepped inside.

I followed but abruptly stopped, definitely not prepared for what was in there. I expected an altar dedicated to Somnus or something like that, some artifact that we could take back to the castle to wake his brother in Limbo; instead, there was a little girl.

Death walked to her side, staring down at her. He kept his features hard, but again, somehow, I felt his emotions and just how wild they were in that moment.

She was very young, maybe two or three years old. "You have a sister?" I whispered and joined him. My breath caught. She was utterly beautiful. Her hair was long and glossy black like Nox's, her skin the same shimmery mother-of-pearl. "Why is she here? Why isn't she with her mother?"

"Her mother doesn't know she exists, and that's the way it must be for now," he said, voice low.

"Doesn't know she exists? How? And if Nox doesn't know she exists, then why is she trying to break into the temple?" I glanced up at him.

He ran the backs of his fingers down the child's round cheek. "It's complicated."

"How long has she been here? How old is she?"

"She's been here in stasis for a very long time. In human years, she is but three years old."

"Why is she like this? Why is she being kept asleep like this?"

"This was a punishment, part of a curse, and there is only one way for it to be broken. Until that happens, she must stay here, and Somnus stays with her in the dream world, protecting her, taking care of her so she is not alone or afraid, until she can finally wake again."

"A curse? So there's no way we can take her from this temple?"

"No, not without breaking it first."

He didn't elaborate, which meant he couldn't tell me.

I couldn't take my eyes off the child lying there. "Are you able to talk to her through Somnus like you did me? In the dream realm?"

"No, she is blocked from me in every way. Only Somnus can reach her."

I didn't think I could despise Nox more. I was wrong. "What will happen to her when we wake him? Who will protect her in the dream realm?"

His jaw tightened again, and his hand actually shook as it hovered over the little girl's cheek. "There are places she can hide. Somnus will ensure she's hidden before he rises from his slumber. It will be only a few days, and then he can return to her."

"She must be so scared," I choked out, thinking of Jasmine when she was that little and my responsibility, and of baby Violet. I don't know what came over me, but I reached out and cupped her tiny, little face, leaning in close and smoothing my hand over her hair. "It will be okay, little one," I whispered. "Your brothers will keep you safe." My heart squeezed. "What's her name?"

"Marigold."

I glanced at him, but he wasn't looking at me or his tiny sister; he had moved to a small statue beside her bed. "Your knife," he said and held out his hand.

I took it from its sheath again and handed it to him. This time, he sliced through his palm and squeezed his fingers into a tight fist, letting his blood drip down the small statue while muttering words in a different language.

Death's head was back, his eyes closed, and power rolled through the room, shaking the ground. I grabbed onto the side of the bed so I didn't fall.

Finally, he opened his eyes, swiped his thumb through the blood pooled in his palm, and pressed it to Marigold's forehead.

"While you walk the Dream Realm alone, let my blood be your protection, let it shelter you, guide you, comfort you," he said in a low, raspy voice.

Then he stepped back, and the power pulsing through the room dropped, returning to how it was when we walked in. "You still have power in here?"

"Enough."

"Now what?" I asked when Death said nothing more.

"Now we go home. Somnus will wake in the next few days, and I'd like to be there to greet him." His gaze slid to me, and his eyes were back to black, flecked with distant stars.

He studied me in a way that made me uneasy. I glanced at Marigold, then back at him. "Is there something else you need?"

He shook his head. "Wait for me in the great room. I'll be out in a moment."

I nodded and hustled out of there, but I couldn't help but glance back before the room was out of sight. Death had dropped to his knees beside the bed, the child's hand held in his massive, tattooed, and scarred ones, and his head was bowed. He was talking, but there was no way I could hear what he was saying. I quickly turned away, feeling guilty for watching such a private and obviously painful moment, and did what he said.

When I walked back into the great room, I spotted a set of wooden animals. They lay on a small table by one of the couches, and I imagined two little boys in this place, playing with toys, sheltered within these walls. They'd been here sometimes years at a time. Were they always alone? What the hell was wrong with Nox that she didn't care for them or protect them? They were gods, yes, and I had no idea how children with that kind of power were raised, but this was wrong any way you looked at it.

After meeting Nox and seeing the way Death loathed her, I doubted she'd ever cared for them the way a mother should.

When Death walked into the room, he was back to being somber and contemplative. Leaving Marigold behind had to be incredibly difficult.

We walked back through the massive doors and outside. "How long has it been since you've been with Somnus awake?" I asked to try and take his mind off his pain, to remind him that he had something to look forward to.

He lifted me onto the beast, then swung up behind me. "Thirteen years."

Thirteen years ago, I'd been just fifteen years old. "When Somnus found me? Is that the last time you talked?"

"Yes."

His arm wrapped around me, and he fisted the beast's knotted mane. "Sleep if you need to. We're not stopping until we're back at the ship."

Then the beast lowered its head, and we took off, galloping back toward the Night Sea.

* * *

The closer we got to the ship, the more Death's mood deteriorated. He wasn't speaking, and the shadows swirled around him constantly now. A profound sadness and that anger, so much anger, burned from his chest behind me and went right through me, settling in my gut. I found myself wrapping my hands around his forearm, my thumbs sliding back and forth in an attempt to soothe whatever was going on with him.

When we reached the ship, Death ushered me down to the cabin, then headed back up, and I heard one demon scream followed by Death roaring threats. I waited for him to come down after that, but he didn't.

A demon knocked on the door an hour later carrying buckets of water. He filled the tub, then left. I quickly washed and changed into a pair of tights and a T-shirt, but despite Death telling me to sleep, I couldn't; it was impossible when all those volatile emotions inside him were so raw and real to me.

I lay in bed, stared at the dark and moody sky through the small round window in the opposite wall, and pressed both hands to my chest to try and ease the ache. Goddess, I had this hollow feeling inside me. I didn't know what was causing it, but I needed it to stop.

It wasn't because of Death; it was something else. Though, I kind of felt like he was avoiding me. I shouldn't care, but I did. So many things had happened during this trip that could have him feeling the way he did, but it felt as if he was directing the force of his emotions at me when we'd ridden—that he was angry at me. But why? Yes, I went up to the deck without telling him and got myself kidnapped, but that didn't warrant that kind of fury. It had to be something else.

I was still mulling all this over hours later, when the door opened and closed. Death walked to the tub, stripped off, and climbed in, barely looking my way, but when he did, his nostrils flared and he ground his teeth.

Any doubt I had about my hypothesis vanished. He was most definitely pissed at me.

Words flew around my head as I tried to think of what to say. Despite how long I'd been coming to Limbo and how things had changed between us this last week, I didn't know him, not really. How could I? He was as old as time, a complex god, and he told me nothing.

He also didn't owe me his trust, and I hadn't earned the right to hear his deepest and darkest secrets, like he hadn't earned that from me. Which meant there was only one thing I could do. Shoving back the covers, I got out of bed and walked over, stopping at the foot of the bath.

"Go back to bed," he said, his gaze locked on the edge of the tub.

"Look at me."

His lips peeled back, but he did as I asked. His eyes were still black as night, like his mother's eyes, not a bit of white showing. "It's my turn," I said.

"Not tonight, witch."

Not consort or wife, not little witch, just witch, as if he was trying to put distance between us.

"Yes, tonight. We made a deal. This is what you demanded, so we'll do it."

His eyes flashed. "No, we will not. Now go back to bed."

He stood abruptly and snatched the towel, roughly drying himself off, then slung it around his waist.

"You're angry with me, why?"

He growled.

"Mors—"

His growl exploded in volume. "Do not… call me that. We are not in bed, witch, so you do not call me by my name."

For some reason, that hurt a lot. It was almost as if… as if he hated me in that moment. "Why are you angry at me?" I asked again. He turned away, and I grabbed his arm.

He swung back, pulling from my hold. "I told you to go back to bed."

"Since when have I done anything you've told me?" I fired back.

"Never, not one fucking time." He ground his teeth again. "You did this, you caused this…" He stopped himself.

"Tell me what I did." He was breathing hard. "Death, tell me what the hell is up your ass, because I've got to tell you, this tantrum of yours is starting to piss me off."

"Is that right?"

"You're not just angry, are you? You're angry at me?"

His face contorted. "Yes," he yelled.

"Why?"

He shook his head, his fingers in brutal fists, the veins in his arms and neck popping. "That is something you have to figure out for yourself."

"You can't just tell me?"

"No."

"And what if I can't figure it out?" I asked. All that volatile emotion pouring off him was too heavy a burden to carry.

He took two steps toward me, closing the space between us, and grabbed my arms. "You have to, do you hear me? You have to because I can't do this anymore. I can't fucking do this again."

I stared up at him. "Do what? I don't understand."

He cursed so loud and full of anguish, I flinched. When he saw me do it, another growl rumbled from him, and he hauled me off my feet. "You're not afraid of me, little witch."

It wasn't a question; it was a demand.

"No," I said and hooked my arms around his neck, pressing my body close. "I'm not."

"Fuck, you piss me off," he snarled, then twisted my hair in his fist and slammed his mouth down on mine.

Our mouths weren't in a dance, moving together; no, they were dueling. "You piss me off more," I said, digging my nails into his shoulders hard enough to draw blood.

He growled. "You disobey me again, and I will lock you in my bedroom and never let you out." He shoved me against the wall. "No, I think I'll do it, anyway."

I hissed, "No, you fucking won't."

My shirt was yanked off over my head and tossed away. "You think you can stop me?"

I bit down on his lip and tasted blood. "I can try, and I think you know me well enough now to know I won't stop until I win."

He swiped his tongue over his lip, coating it in blood, then yanked my head back and thrust it in my mouth, kissing me hard. "I have nothing but time, female," he said against my lips.

My legs were around his hips, fighting to get him closer while making him work for it at the same time. "You're a confusing, arrogant pain in the ass."

He shoved his hand down the front of my tights, into my underwear. "Turns out confusing, arrogant pains in the ass make your cunt wet as fuck."

"And it turns out infuriating, disobedient witches make you hard as hell." I yanked the towel away, and the long, hard ridge of his cock dug into my stomach.

The sound of fabric ripping came next. "They were my favorite tights, asshole."

"I'm about to stuff your pussy full of your favorite cock, so I think you'll get over it," he said, maneuvering me like a rag doll, then shoved my panties aside.

"How do you know yours is my favorite?" I fired back, even though we both knew I'd never had better, that no one had ever made me feel the way he had in this cabin.

He laughed, and it was dark and arrogant; then, he slammed inside me.

I cried out, the invasion too much but exactly what I needed. " Oh fuck ."

The smile dropped from his face as he slid out, then thrust back in. "When I'm finished with you, I will be the only lover you remember. The rest will cease to exist. How long did you feel me after, little witch, when I fucked you the first time?"

I hadn't stopped. I'd still felt him before he filled me a moment ago. "G-goddamn… ah, arrogant."

He pressed his forehead against mine and thrust inside me again, then held there. "You were made for me, inside and out, and the first time I claimed you, I ruined you for every other male for the rest of your life."

The rest of my life could be only a matter of hours or days, so I guess he was right. I didn't say that, though. When I talked about that, it angered him, and I currently had as much angry Death as I could handle. "You… th-think so?" He still hadn't slid back out; he was still deep inside me, doing this subtle swivel of his hips, and goddess, it felt so fucking good. I was close to coming from just that. My pussy started clutching at him desperately.

"I know so, and if another male comes near you, I will tear him into tiny pieces, but not before I've made him scream for mercy."

I couldn't hold back; my pussy clamped down on him, and I cried out, coming for him and moaning his name.

"That's it, wife, moan for me." Then he lifted me away from the wall, pulled out, spun me to my front, shoved me down on the bed, and, dragging my ass in the air, slammed back inside me. His hand went between my thighs, and one of those long, scarred fingers slid over my clit while he pounded into me from behind. I came again, screaming this time, mindlessly clawing at the sheets.

His big body covered me, one hand curling around my throat, his mouth coming to my ear as he fucked me hard and fast. "You are mine, Zinnia, and I won't fucking lose you, do you hear me? I won't," he said the last part in a way that resonated though the room like an oath.

All I could do was make an incoherent sound as the God of Death claimed me in the most primal of ways over and over again.