Prologue

T he night I realized I was in love with my best friend, I came face to face with Death for the first time.

At eighteen and twenty, we were still trying to find our way in a world that didn't understand us. We'd always been a little…other. While most feared the dark, we thrived in the shadows—chased them—consumed by questions regarding the universe and how we fit in it. The night's reverence held such promise for us. There, we could be our true selves, away from prying eyes that deemed us unfit. Broken .

The moon radiated a strange glow that night, haloed by golden light which seemed to whisper that Fate's eyes rested on us. Destiny carried on the wind, tangled in a perfume of fresh pine and moist soil. The woods called to me as they often did in my early years after my powers had manifested, but I knew better than to sneak out without Kim. She would've had my head if I did; she was vicious in her desires, even back then.

I'd recently had my heart eviscerated by a tall, charming—albeit a bit pretentious—guy three-quarters of the town population either lusted after or championed as some great overachiever on the rise. What started as a daring touch at a house party had turned into late-night meetups laced with whiskey and wandering hands. I'd known I wasn't in love with him, but being his secret felt good for a while; it had given me a reason to live, however small. He'd offered me something I craved, body and soul, though I denied it: a chance to be wanted. Me . The parentless, vacant shadow who habitually distanced himself from any connection that might leave him open and vulnerable. I wasn't oblivious to that side of myself—don't get me wrong—but I didn't care to change it. When your past was as packed full of death as mine was, well…getting lost inside yourself comes easy. It keeps you safe. But I'd believed he'd seen me. Really seen me.

Turned out the dude was a filthy fucking liar.

Looking back years later, I realized envy had driven our first interactions. Wanting to be with him was never as strong as wanting to be him. He had everything I'd always wanted: a gentle father who taught him everything he knew and a mother who doted on him, promising he could be anything his heart desired. He had a family, a home, and a future. He belonged.

We'd met up in the old cemetery like we often did, my heart clapping in anticipation. With a blanket laid out under the stars and snacks packed in my backpack, I'd waited. When he finally showed, I'd assumed we'd spend time together. Talk maybe. I know, a ridiculous thing to want from a sneaky hookup. Especially one hiding malevolent desires. By the rough end, my hands shook as I buttoned my shirt back up while he'd carried on about how he wasn't queer and how disgusted he felt in having let me "convince" him to do such a thing. To think I'd given him a chance—torn my walls down to let him in—only to be reminded why I'd built them in the first place. I'd been such an idiot. I'd allowed him to get close, to see into the real me. Guess he hadn't liked what he found. He'd left me there in a confused fog, drowning in the overwhelming realization that I was unwanted. Again.

I would have paid a pretty penny for a shot at breaking the dude's jaw, but his parents shipped him away to a conservative college in the south to "get his head straight" before I'd had the chance. For someone hellbent on not being into dudes, rumor had it he'd been caught mid-act with the star running back of Cottage Grove Community Collage on his parent's bed just days after our last hookup. Apparently his picturesque family wasn't so shiny and perfect when it came to their son being queer. They'd pried, and he'd lied. I heard he'd gone as far as to say he'd been with Kimber on the nights he'd met up with me, attempting to pin his sneaking around on being into plus-sized chicks. My jealousy had reared its ugly head after hearing that bit. It's true we all have to find our way—sometimes breaking a heart or two along the journey to self-discovery—but he'd been a merciless dick in his attempts to hide his true self. At least he'd given me a gift intermixed in the lies. A revelation. It wasn't him I'd yearned for. No, my jealousy had never been on his account.

It had been her . Kim.

Though I had no family to call my own—a guardian who popped by on occasion to put food on the table and make sure I still had a pulse was better than nothing, I guess—there was one person I knew I could always count on no matter what. For weeks, I'd denied my feelings surrounding his betrayal until I couldn't any longer. Slinking up the vines to Kimber's bedroom like some grim twist on Romeo and Juliet, I had knocked on her window until the light flickered on. With concern in her eyes, she'd parted the curtains and didn't hesitate to follow me into the night. I'd like to say I regretted stealing the truck from her mom—the lady was incredibly kind—but with whiskey on my tongue and the wind nipping in through the windows? Nah, I'd needed it. And so, Kim and I did what we always did when life landed a sucker punch.

We threw rocks down in the quarry to blow off steam.

After a mile walk in, we found our usual lookout spot. The treetops danced against the midnight sky as we sat wrapped in the silence for some time, entirely comfortable in the shared quiet. No pressure or need to speak until we were ready. I dug my fingers into the gravel—the bits of rough stone against my palms calming me with each throw. Finally, Kim leaned her head against my shoulder, and my rapid thoughts slowed. Stilled.

"It's his loss, you know," she said, bumping my shoulder. "You're a catch."

I chucked another rock into the abyss below, counting the seconds before it clattered at the bottom. "Of course you'd say that. You're my best friend. You have to."

She slapped my arm. "I do not!"

"Right, ‘cause ‘moody' and ‘emotionally unavailable' are such turn-ons. Who wouldn't want me?"

"I think you meant to say ‘mysterious' and ‘alluring.'"

I laughed, her head bobbing against me. "Sure."

"Are you calling me a liar, Cooper Rollins?"

She stood, placed one hand on her hip, and pulled me to my feet with the other. Even in her hole-ridden sweatpants and faded band t-shirt, she commanded attention. Demanded it. The moonlight kissed her ashen hair, and I couldn't help but step closer, drawn to her like a moth to a flame. My steps faltered. How had I not noticed the dusting of freckles on her nose before? Like a sea of stars on her skin as if the night had claimed her for its own. I drank her in anew. Her gaze pinned me in place, and I dreamed of what it might be like to— I shook my head. What the hell was wrong with me? Friends. We are friends .

"A liar?" I scoffed. "No. I've never met anyone as honest as you. Less brutal in the approach maybe, but never more honest."

She pursed her lips—their plumpness drawing my focus—and searched my face. An infectious smile overcame her as she spun me about, her laughter hitting home in my gut. We danced to the music in her mind, and I found myself curious as to what tune drove her. I fought the urge to ask, in fear she'd stop and I'd have to remove my hold on her hips.

"I purpose a toast to us," she declared.

"To us?" I asked, dipping her back. "What for?"

"To us being mysterious, and desirable, and honest, and all the things."

"All the things. Pretty vague there, don't you think?"

"Fine then." She raised the whiskey bottle high. "Then to you. To the guy who never gives up, despite his haunting past. To the person I can always count on, no matter what time it is or how ridiculous my current meltdown might be."

I stole the bottle, raising it out of her reach in jest. "And to you. To your brilliant mind and twisted dark humor. To the way you would die, maybe even kill, to protect the people you love."

"You're damn right, I would!" She hopped up to steal the bottle back again and downed a sip, wincing at the liquor's harsh bite. "To the way you make me laugh until my stomach hurts."

"To the way your nose wrinkles when you smell a person's bullshit."

A challenge rose in her stare. "To the way you pretend you're heartless, even though you care more than you let on."

"Wrong, I couldn't give two shits about most things, but—" I grabbed the bottle, taking a swig. "To the way you see me."

Her brow tensed. "I'm not the only one who sees how awesome you are. You know that, right?"

"Nobody sees me the way you do, Kim. All they see are my sharp edges and messy past. They judge me before they even get a chance to know me. Which, honestly? Fine by me. Screw ‘em. But you…"

Her hand cemented around my cheek, forcing my chin up to look me straight in the eyes.

"Other people are idiots," she bit out. "Anyone who doesn't see you for the strong, capable, kind person you are is blind. And you're right: screw them, because they don't deserve you."

Her words started a fever in me, heating my core more than whiskey ever could. "To the way you speak your mind."

"To the way you encourage me to," she said, "and to the way you listen."

Head full of liquor, I drew closer, a feral desire building in me. Suddenly I knew: I didn't want to be friends anymore. I wanted to be much, much more. I wanted to touch her, hold her, breathe her in, and do anything in my power to make her smile at me again and again. My mouth went dry. Holy shit…I—I was in love with her.

My pulse pounded as I reached out, but the twist in my chest made me stop shy. What if she didn't feel the same? Rejection was one thing, but if it came from her, I might never recover. Despite my fears, the need in me grew too charged to ignore. I leaned in—my fingers playing with the fabric hugging her curves—and my gaze fell to her lips. "To the way you feel like home."

"I'll always be your home." Her breath hitched. "And you will always be mine."

My nose brushed against hers, the ache in me doubling. More so, I realized I believed her. Heart and soul, I believed her. Tomorrow wasn't promised, but to know I wouldn't be alone in this hellscape of a fucked-up world meant everything. Just like that, she became the driving hope for my future.

"I might kiss you," I muttered.

"Coop, we can't." She stiffened but didn't pull away. "You mean way too much to me to risk—"

"I'm not asking you to commit or promise me anything, but if I don't kiss you right-fucking-now, I might lose my mind."

Our lips crashed into one another, desperate. Her kiss was electric, her mouth soft and laced in the sharp tang of alcohol. A taste I committed to memory. She began to mirror my hungry touch, her need pushing me a step back on the rocky ledge. I dug my heels in as her body pressed against mine and our hands wandered. I knew then that I'd been forever changed. Remade and claimed. I feared for a moment that I'd fallen asleep—my stomach dropping at the thought of waking from such a dream—but her teeth nipped my bottom lip, and the gentle ache of her bite sent a shock wave through me. This was real. Carefully, I guided her to the ground, propping her up. Her chest heaved, and her eyes grew wild.

I traced a hand along the sliver of skin peeking below her shirt. "Do you want this?"

Her head fell back, breath heavy. "Yes."

"Are you sure?" I traced a hand lower. "Because if not—"

She fisted a hand around my shirt collar. "Shut up and kiss me."

Her tongue swirled around mine, and I slipped her bottoms down, tossing them to the ground in reckless abandon. With a pointed finger, I guided one knee to the side, then the next—her moan of approval making me throb. Chills rose up my arms as I beheld her, devastatingly beautiful in her vulnerability. I'd never been so hard in my life . The urge to please her rose to near catastrophic levels, and I brushed my touch along her inner thigh, grabbing her hand to wrap it around mine. "Show me how you like it?"

She smirked and took my fingers between hers. With gentle strokes, she guided my fingers in circles about her swollen clit, slow and steady at first. I watched in amazement, rubbing my cock through my pants in tandem with her. So hot: the way her knees shook the closer she got, her dominance moving me to her pleasure. The speed increased, her hips grinding against my fingertips.

"Don't stop," she whimpered.

But I did. I wanted to try something. I wanted…no, needed , to taste her.

"No," she whined. "I was so close. Why'd you stop?"

"Because your pussy looks like a goddamn snack, and I want a taste."

My lips devoured her—her hips bucking—and I drove my tongue in and out to swirl around her center. Her back arched beneath me as her hands knotted in my hair.

"Shit," she moaned.

I nipped her clit with my teeth, and her sweetness spilled across my tongue as she crashed over the edge. Pure heaven. But I was nowhere near satiated, tipping from hungry to ravenous.

Without warning, she snatched me by the throat and forced me underneath her, removing my pants frantically. Wasting no time, she straddled me and settled her warmth over my length. She began to glide back and forth while her thumb teased the tip of my cock.

"You want this?" she asked, positioning me at her entrance.

My entire body ignited beneath her. "Gods, yes. Put it in."

"Then beg for it."

"Please," I whimpered.

Her mouth gaped, and she pushed me inside. Just the tip. Absolute torture…and I loved every second of it. The sheer power she held over me was intoxicating as she leaned down to bite my neck, her tongue tickling my ear.

"Mmm, beg harder," she ordered.

"Please, I need to be inside you."

She slid down my length a little more, and I buckled under the sensation. Her softness tightened around me.

"Better, but I don't quite feel your desperation." She pinned my hands over my head. "I said, ‘Beg.'"

"Please, Kim, fuck me."

"There it is."

She drove me in all at once, stealing the air from my lungs. Her gasp at my entrance fueled me, and I slammed her back down on my cock. A second time. And a third. Each blow brought me closer to the edge, had me throbbing inside her. Her brows pinched as she neared her second climax, her hand cementing around my throat. Pure, addictive lust radiated in her eyes, and I wrapped my hand around hers, encouraging her tight grip. She rode me harder and harder until we were a mess of moans and sighs and breaths and—

"Oh gods, I'm coming," I growled, pounding into her.

My sights locked onto her pretty, pink mouth as she cried out in pleasure. I knew then what my purpose was: to serve her; to protect her; to treasure her. She owned me.

And I was damn proud to let her.

She collapsed, her breathing labored. "I can't believe we just did that…"

"Me either."

But to say I was glad it happened would have been the understatement of the century. We laid there in a heap beneath the stars for some time. Content in the silence—neither of us eager to tackle the loaded question drifting between us—we sipped what remained of the whiskey.

A scuffle in the tree line sent me reeling. My lungs tightened, and the hair on the back of my neck bristled at the sudden thickness in the air. The scent of decay permeated. But animals died in the forest every day, right? It was probably a half-eaten kill left to rot, and I chalked it up to a nearby squirrel or rabbit. But I couldn't shake the undeniable feeling that we were being watched, and not by a harmless woodland creature. A predator. I brushed if off as nothing more than drunken paranoia.

Still, if some crazy drunk stumbled up in the middle of the night, I wasn't about to be caught with my balls out, seeing as Kim owned them now. I snatched my pants and shimmied them on alongside Kim when my zipper snagged, the bent metal slicing my thumb.

"Ah," I hissed, and sucked the cut clean. "I know you think I'm sexy, and you just had to get in my pants, but damn lady. Do you have to dominate and destroy? These are my favorite jeans."

"Eh, it's more fun with a little destruction," she teased back. "And for the record, it was you who begged me . So really, you're the thirsty one here."

I chuckled. "Oh, is that so? Because from my view, it looked like you couldn't get enough, Miss Beg-for-it ."

"Don't move."

"What, knees still quivering? I have to admit, the way you take control is hot as—"

I looked up to find her frozen in fear.

"Kim, what's wrong?"

"Look," she whispered. "There's someone in the woods. They're…watching us."

I turned to catch a glimpse, and my stomach dropped. The silhouette of a rather large man lingered with his sights on us, apparently not the least bit concerned that we saw him. Like deer caught in the headlights, we sat frozen in place until I couldn't take it anymore. I jumped to my feet. "Hey asshole, take a picture. It'll last longer!"

Kim shot to her feet and snagged my wrist. "Cooper, don't—"

The world stilled. In time with the man's disappearance into the trees, Kim's foot slipped against the gravel, and her body arched towards the abyss below. I reacted on impulse and swept her back on solid ground, but my own feet betrayed me.

One, two, three, four, five seconds to the bottom.

I hit the ground with a loud thud, my bones breaking in tandem against the rocky ground. Unbeknownst to me, a severe fall does strange things to the body. All I could think as I stared up at the cliff's edge was, "What just happened?" Vision blurry, I laid there in shock. I waited for the pain—Kim's panicked screams reverberating downward—and slid a hand into my hair, prodding a jagged gash along my skull. Warmth ran down my fingertips. Fresh blood, but still no pain. I was dead. I had to be. I mean, what other explanation could there be?

"You saved her," a layered voice called from somewhere in the dark.

Yup, definitely dead. "God?"

The man snickered. "Not even close, boy. I am more akin to a nightmare than a deity."

"I—I need help." I pushed to sit, but my body defied me. My head spun as I attempted to make out where the voice hailed from. "I think I'm dying."

"You are. Rapidly, in fact."

"Please…help me?"

"I can do that. It is well within my power. But tell me, are you willing to pay the cost?"

As mental haziness closed in, I struggled to find my answer. Cost? Who was this person who'd found me in such perfect timing? And why? How?

"Time is ticking," he tsked . "I've not long before I must leave this plane behind. Make your choice. Death or a debt owed."

"I—" Light began to fade. Sound and color disappeared. "I—I don't want to die."

An aura of destruction and judgment carried on the man's coattail as he emerged on the edge of my vision. The feeling of being completely at his mercy stripped me down to nothing; my soul laid bare at his feet. I shivered. How could he bring me the salvation he promised? Mortality was inescapable, no matter who you were.

"Finding you was nothing short of divine intervention. An act of Fate, some might say. And so I shall grant you life. But know this, boy: your destiny is forever entwined with hers now."

In my peripheral, I watched the man slice his palm open, find the crevice in my skull, and place his wound on mine. A buzz settled in my ears, heat spreading out across my limbs on contact. "Entwined with who?"

Kim's cries ricocheted from the canyon floor, her footsteps pounding closer. My strength returned, and my vision settled. I stood—a million new questions rattling through my mind—as the sight of my savior took morbid shape. A crown of bone sat atop his head, and his eyes burned like hellfire. Evil incarnate.

I recoiled. "Who are you?"

The wicked grin on his face widened as he replied, "I am Death. And you, dear boy, are indebted to me."