Chapter 21

CHAPTER 21

Zinnia

I glanced at my bags by the door as I got into bed. Hemlock was curled up in my carpetbag under one of my scarves. He was ready to go home and see everyone. He missed them as much as I did when we were gone.

Death had to see how toxic this situation was. Yes, he'd let down his guard with me and shown me another side of him, but on the turn of a dime, he'd snap. Something about me called the darkness in him, and the anger always crept back. Even when he didn't outwardly show it, I felt it.

He had to see ending this was for the best.

The only times we were good together were when we were naked, and he'd taken that off the table in an attempt to control me—a seriously destructive move, especially if he was trying to build some kind of real relationship with me. But he wasn't. I got the feeling he was waiting for the inevitable—my demise, just like the rest of them.

There was so much I didn't understand about this place, about his motives. He said I needed to work it out for myself but then blocked me at every turn. I promised him I'd try, but I was getting nowhere. Jazzy's twenty-first birthday was fast approaching, and if I couldn't convince him to release me, I'd be trapped here, trapped in his anger and loathing until whatever killed his previous consorts killed me too.

I pulled the covers higher and stared at the ceiling, trying to calm my racing heart. I knew all these things, but goddess, I missed him. I missed those small calm moments when he looked at me in a way that curled my toes, and I missed his grin, and that laugh, and the way he touched me, kissed me. No one had ever made me feel as wonderful or as fucking awful as he could.

My eyes grew heavy, and I let them drift closed, allowing the darkness to pull me under for maybe the last time in this room.

The sky outside the castle window was dark and heavy. She pressed her hand to the glass, a sob falling from her lips. The weight of her pain was unbearable. She was scared and lonely, so incredibly lonely. Hand trembling, she picked up a knife and, holding it tight, brought it to her throat….

The room spun, and a female walked outside. She was running, running through the forest. Running with nowhere to go. She fell, but she didn't get up. She lay in the dirt and prayed her heart would stop, that it would just stop.

I woke with my heart pounding. Two different females this time, and their agony was like an ache in my bones, my soul. Their pain and loneliness were my own.

A dark, intoxicating scent reached me, and I knew I wasn't in my room alone anymore. Shoving myself up to my elbows, I blinked into the darkness. Death stood at the end of my bed in only a pair of dark trousers. His hairless, tattooed chest almost glowed under the muted light coming through the window.

His head was dipped like he was praying, his hands at his sides, fingers curled into fists. I sat up, but he said nothing, and neither did I for the longest time.

Finally, I wrapped my arms around my knees. "They killed themselves, didn't they? Your consorts ended their own lives?"

He lifted his head and sucked in a breath when his bright blue eyes locked on me. No shadows, no darkness, just clear, vibrant blue. "All but one, yes."

The one at the cliff. She hadn't jumped; she'd been pushed. "Why?"

"Because they were never meant to be here."

"I don't understand."

"You need to try."

I wanted to scream in frustration. "Will that happen to me? Eventually, will I…?"

"No," he said, voice breaking.

"Why not me? Why am I different?"

"Because it was always you… because it had to be you," he rasped.

I didn't understand. I didn't understand any of this. "Death—"

"I need you," he choked out. "I need my consort. I need you, Zinnia."

He'd said all he could. He could tell me no more. I had two choices: I could push for something he couldn't give me, or I could let it go, at least for tonight. I didn't know what the future held for me, for us, but however you looked at it, it wasn't good. In this moment, he needed me, and I could admit that right then, I needed him as well. What I'd seen had shaken me; those females, they'd pulled me down into the depths of their pain. I didn't know what it meant, and I couldn't think, not when Death was the only one who could drive the ache from my bones and the loneliness from my soul.

I tossed back the covers. "Then take me," I said softly into the heavy silence surrounding us.

His chest expanded sharply. "You still want me?"

Grabbing the bottom of the shirt I wore, I pulled it up and off, tossing it aside, leaving me in only my underwear. "Yes."

He took an abrupt step forward, and then he was striding around the bed. Leaning in, he hooked me around the waist and tugged me down on the mattress before covering me.

He stared at me, looking deeply into my eyes. "You have no idea just how precious you are to me, none," he rasped. "Trying to protect you, to force you to bend to my will by punishing you, was a greater punishment for me. I have not slept for days, my body aches constantly, my hands itch to touch you, and my heart feels as if it's being impaled by poisonous spikes whenever I see you. So much of the anger you feel when you're with me is directed at myself."

"But even more is directed at me," I whispered.

"Yes."

"And you won't tell me why?"

He shook his head. "I can't, but I need you to know that you're not to blame. That the anger I feel doesn't diminish how much I worship you, and that it is born from frustration over a situation that you have no control over. That's all I can tell you."

"What if I never work any of this out? What if I never learn the truth on my own?"

His Adam's apple slid up and down his throat. "I have to believe you will."

For the sake of his own sanity, he was deep in denial, and I felt the pressure of that, of saving him, of saving us both, immensely. I cupped the side of his face. "If you truly love me, Mors, then you need to let me go. Release me… it's the only way to save me from the same fate as the females that came before me."

His breathing was erratic, heavy. "Saving you, protecting you, is my greatest desire, but what you ask… I can't. I can't do it, love."

If we kept talking, we'd end up arguing. I didn't understand any of this, and he couldn't tell me. So instead of begging him to make me understand—something I knew he couldn't do—I brushed my thumb along his lower lip. "Then kiss me."

He slid the tips of his fingers down the side of my face, the roughened skin bringing every one of my nerve endings alive. "I am yours to command, my queen," he said, and then he covered my mouth with his and kissed me achingly slow and with a reverence that made my heart ache and my head spin.

He slid his hands along my side, over my waist, his fingers digging into flesh and muscle, massaging, worshipping. I wrapped my arms around him, running my hands over the smooth, muscled skin of his back, and tangled my legs with his, holding him close. The kiss deepened, and my world narrowed to him, to this. Fire built inside me, so hot that I was afraid I'd burn to ash and float away if Death didn't hold me down.

When I couldn't take it any longer, I wrapped my legs around his hips, desperate to feel him against me. Desperate for the sweet relief only he could give me. "Mors, I need you," I pleaded against his lips as my hands slid around his waist.

He lifted his hips away from me, giving me room, and I quickly undid his pants, shoving them down. His kiss became more urgent, a fierceness of need that more than matched my own. He wore nothing underneath, and his cock, hot and heavy and impossibly hard, fell into my hand. I squeezed him, stroked him, and he growled against my lips.

Gripping my underwear, he tore them from my body, his hand sliding up until his fingers were gliding through my slick folds, pressing against my opening. "Are you ready for me, love? Because I can't wait."

"So ready." I took his length in my hand and led him to me, pressing the head of his cock to my opening; then I lifted my hips, taking the tip inside me.

He groaned. "You so easily erase all traces of my control," he said roughly and grabbed my wrists, lifting them over my head. "Infuriating, irresistible, brave little witch." He pressed sucking kisses along my throat. "You terrify me. You beguile me." He kissed along my jaw and looked down at me. "You fucking own me."

Then he slid inside me, a slow, steady glide that had my mouth falling open as a needy, raw sound left me. He kept that pace, sliding out just as slow, then filling me, stretching me to my limits, and the whole time, he watched me, watched the play of my features as he made me feel things I didn't know I was capable of feeling.

His expression was set, determined, while his big body trembled above me, his muscles jumping, his veins and tendons standing out. I clung to him when he thrust inside me and stayed there, rocking against me, hitting me deep. I whimpered when the first orgasm rushed forward, crying out when I started coming around him so hard, all I could do was hold on.

"I'm going to fuck you all night, so when you leave me tomorrow, you'll feel me with you. I need you to feel me with you," he rasped.

He thrust faster, deeper. "Mors—"

"Will you think of me, my love? Will you think of me while you're gone?"

There was no missing the desperation in his voice. "Yes," I said, telling him the truth.

He thrust faster still. "I'll be counting down the minutes until you return," he said, his eyes flashing, the shadows swirling. "Without you, I am only darkness. Without you, I am a starless sky. I am nothing."

Tears burned my eyes. The things he said… I could love this male, this version of Death, and I could believe that he loved me—but it never lasted.

Sliding his hand between us, he rubbed my clit as he fucked me harder, kissing me, breathing my air and sharing his. Our hearts slammed together as if they were one, our bodies caught in a violent rhythm, an animalistic dance that came so naturally, as if we'd been doing this dance our entire lives, an eternity, not just weeks.

Arching against him, I cried out as I came again. Death hissed, grabbing my thigh and holding it high, the other hand cupping my face. "You are my beginning and my end, my everything, my sweet Stella," he groaned and came, pulsing fiercely inside me, grinding against me, filling me over and over until we were both spent.

And this time when he called me Stella, it didn't feel wrong—it felt so right.

Wrapping his arms around me, he rolled to his side. We stayed like that, me locked in Death's arms while we caught our breath. He pressed his lips to my forehead. "Rest while you can. The night has only just begun."

* * *

Death was gone when I woke, and I wouldn't lie, I was disappointed.

My feelings for him were complex, but there was no denying that I did have feelings for him, strong ones. But we'd said all that needed to be said last night, all that could be said. He'd taken me all night, only letting me take short naps before he reached for me again, and I gave myself over to him willingly.

My body still ached, and my skin felt branded by his hands, his mouth, and he was right, I felt him. With every step I took, I felt him inside me. I quickly showered and dressed, then braided my hair. I was about to leave, but something stopped me. There was something I felt compelled to do first. Rummaging around in my pack, I found the small wooden box that I'd made when I was a kid. I used to keep my earrings in. I took them out, zipping them in the side pocket of my pack, then grabbing a piece of paper from the small desk in the corner, I quickly wrote a note, folded it, put it inside the box, and placed it beside the bed. Then I slid on my pack, and Hemlock scurried up my arm and climbed inside; he'd be asleep before we made it out of the castle. I looked around my room a final time and took in all the other little things that sat on shelves and on the dresser, the pictures and the keepsakes, and then my own now here for eternity with the rest. I didn't know what was going to happen, what the future held, but this place, this room—the females that came before me—were now part of my story, and I wanted to be remembered along with them.

I picked up the rest of my things and headed downstairs. I said my goodbyes to Egon and Lyle, then walked out the wide front doors—and pulled up short.

Death stood outside, waiting.

He said nothing, just held out his hand. I took it, and we headed down the stairs and started down the skull path that led to the gateway. He'd never walked me to the gate. He always left the castle before I did, moody and quiet. I glanced up at him now. He kept his eyes trained forward, a look on his face I couldn't read, but his hand gripped mine tighter.

"Will you be seeing the hounds while you're away?" he asked, still not looking down at me.

"Probably. Why?"

His jaw tightened. "Hounds are unpredictable. But then so are wolf shifters… and crows. Just make sure you're careful."

"None of them would ever hurt me," I said. "You have nothing to worry about."

He didn't reply. Was he jealous?

"Death?"

"Mors," he said.

That was the first time he'd ever asked me to call him that. "Mors?"

"Yes."

"I'm not going to sleep with anyone while I'm gone. You have no reason to be jealous."

He stopped, forcing me to do the same. "While you're away, I am sick with jealousy, not just of other males, but of everyone who gets to be in your presence, Zinnia, when I can't be."

He was trapped here, unable to move through the mortal world, at least not in his corporal form. He could use Somnus to visit dreams, and his soul could leave here when he recruited a reaper, like he had with Magnolia, but otherwise, he was stuck. "I'm sorry," I said lamely; there was nothing else I could say or do to make that easier on him.

He started walking again.

The gateway loomed ahead, and I had a rush of adrenaline. I was going to see my sister again. My heart filled with happiness, and there was no hiding it, but there was no denying how much I would miss Death while I was gone or how much I'd grown to care for him—more than I'd allowed myself to admit. But that still didn't mean we were right for each other.

His hand still gripped mine as the gateway opened, holding me close to him, not wanting to let me go.

Jasmine was on the other side, Ren with her. I could see them, but they couldn't see me yet; we weren't close enough.

"Zinnia," Death said, bringing my attention back to him. "You've seen a side of me that I'm not proud of, but know that I want you here with me more than anything—I need you to know that." He smiled, and there was pain in his eyes. "And when the lunar month is over, I want you to return to me. Promise you'll do that, love. Will you promise me that?"

I searched his eyes, the darkness swirling in the blue, as if he was barely holding the shadows at bay. "You know I will. We have a bargain."

"You said if I truly loved you, I should let you go, that releasing you was the only way to save you," he said, his thumb sliding over my cheek as he looked at me. "If that's what I must do to prove it to you, then… Zinnia Thornheart, I release you from your bargain."

My legs went weak. "You're releasing me?" It was what I'd wanted for so long, what I'd asked for, but still, his words were like a dagger to my heart.

"After your month away, whether you return to me or not, the choice is yours, little witch." The shadows swallowed more of his bright blue eyes. "But I'm begging you… choose me over everything and everyone, over a life with them, over the possibility of death here with me." He pressed a soft kiss to my lips. "Choose me," he said roughly, then released my hand and strode away.

I watched him go, unable to look away.

His cloak swirled around him, covering him as he walked, as his staff appeared in his hand, thumping on the ground with each step he took away from me, as he disappeared around the bend in the path.

It was harder than it should be to turn away. I looked at my sister, and goddess, my heart felt as if it were being torn in two.

Go. Leave. I snatched up my bags before I did something stupid, like go after him, and stepped through the gate and into Jazzy's arms.

My sister squeezed me tight. "I'm so glad you're home."

I watched the gate close behind her, locking me out of Limbo, and the ache in my chest returned more painful than ever before.

What the hell was I going to do?