15. GHOSTS WILL HAUNT

Chapter fifteen

GHOSTS WILL HAUNT

T he vision of Kim walking towards me—a bone tiara atop her head glistening in the candlelight—captivated my entire being. Power. She was power incarnate, ready to take her place as the new Death. Secure and confident in her ruthlessness. Her magic moved anew—surer of itself somehow—ebbing and flowing with intention to protect its wielder at any cost. There were still questions lingering in her evasive gaze, sure, but not about her worth or ability. She knew who she was now, and damn anyone who thought otherwise. Rightfully so, because only a fool would look upon this woman and see anything less than a goddess.

"You look ravishing," I said upon her approach, and attempted to catch my breath.

"I know I do." Her clipped words made my stomach twist.

"Spoken like a true queen."

Why I'd assumed she'd have softened towards me in such a short time, I don't know. Forgiveness never came easy to her; and even if it did, I'm not sure I deserved it. In her mind, I'd rejected her, left her wondering what she'd done wrong or how she'd lost my affections. But she couldn't have been further from the truth, because my affections were precisely what had kept me from laying with her. She was my home, my safe space. To sully a gift like that by allowing unspoken secrets to spill over onto her already full plate, to deceive her in her vulnerability…I would never forgive myself for such a betrayal. So I stood by my decision, despite it cutting me to the bone every time I glanced her way and she denied me. My sights fell to my feet.

In one stupid moment overshadowed by desire, I'd burned her trust in me to the ground. Idiot. I should have known better than to let feelings get involved. Winning her heart had never been my goal, even if deep down I would always long for it. Her security and protection remained my top priority.

I focused on the looming ballroom doors. "Are you ready for this?"

"You bet your ass I am."

I offered my arm to her, which she reluctantly took for appearance's sake in preparation for the night's event. She held her head high, but I caught the flinch in her fingers. She didn't want to touch me, and here we were about to parade ourselves around like lovers, arm in arm for hours on end. My toes curled in my shoes, squeaking against the leather, the silence between us deafening.

Here goes nothing.

Kimber's hold on my elbow tightened as the ballroom doors parted, revealing a vast sea of guests. All eyes turned to us, and her breath hitched.

I leaned in close. "Give them hell."

Though she fought it, a smirk showed through her steely resolve, and I took it as a win. A small glimmer of hope that maybe, somehow, she might find a way to trust me again. One day.

We took our places by Death, our thrones at his side decorated in cascading dead flowers and gemstones set alight by the chandeliers' soft glow. The castle's signature black roses littered the polished tabletops, their sweet scent filling the space. No expense had been spared this night. I watched the guests tilt their heads in attentive adoration of their coming queen and king, and I offered Cadagon a grateful nod. Solidifying allied partnerships—which I knew seconds after entering the room was the true intention behind the night—would be made much easier in a space so welcoming and decadent. The elite valued a lavish ball. Cadagon's quick smirk said it all: For her, anything.

Kim pushed her shoulders back, ready to address our people. "Honored guests, welcome! We are so fortunate to have such prestigious and influential minds in our presence this night. It is with great pleasure that we celebrate the coming change of an era."

Not an eye strayed from her, transfixed as if lured in by a siren song. She'd bewitched them, body and soul. Her shadows swayed, luring me in closer; and I stepped to her side, lacing my hand through hers like it belonged there.

"A change the future queen and I are excited to build with your help," I added. "We look forward to what is to come in the days ahead. Anathema, united."

Death stepped forward to speak, but his words dissipated the further my focus drifted. All I saw was her. Us . Our hands intertwined. I followed her line of sight, absorbing the shared mission we'd laid out taking root in our guests' minds. Chills carried up my arms as I pictured the future we could build together. That is…if she would have me. One truth remained firm in my mind regardless of whether or not she'd accept me as her partner: Anathema's enemies had fallen. The festering corruption had been purged by flames, giving the kingdom a chance to breed life anew. Who then, could touch her? Nobody.

Giddy satisfaction and genuine hope hung around me like a badge of honor as I watched Kimber demand my throne be raised at her side. An equal , she'd called me. While her heart may not have warmed to me in regards to our personal relationship, being considered an asset to the crown was a start.

We waded into the crowd. Conversation proved clunky at first, neither Kim nor I sure who should lead and who should follow. I gave her space to talk, to romance those in her courts, but she seemed adamant that I join in too. We approached the next group, the small tick in her brow conveying she wanted me to take the reins. Right…no pressure or anything. I turned my attention to the table, and my heart jumped. Gold bangles clinked on our next guest's wrist as he waved us over, his cerulean eyes heavy on me.

"You," I whispered before I could stop myself.

"Me." Adari smiled and squeezed his husband's knee, pulling him away from a side conversation. "Tovas, the future queen and king have graced us with their presence."

Tovas nodded but didn't say a word. Not at first. Instead, Adari's husband looked us over inquisitively. After a brief moment, Adari extended a hand to Kimber, the gold glitter on his rich brown skin shimmering. Without a second thought, she offered her hand to him in return, and he placed a quick peck on it.

"Kimberly," she introduced herself. "And you are?"

"Star-struck," he said with a grin spreading across his round cheeks. "Adari Melontin, beloved husband of Duke Tovas of Wentworth Manor. It is truly an honor to meet you, Your Highness. And might I just say, whoever your royal dresser is, I simply must meet them."

Kim's shoulders relaxed at his remark on the exquisite fabric of her gown, and the two fell into effortless conversation. With that, I took my seat at Tovas's side.

"So," he began, raising an eyebrow, "my husband tells me we owe you a great debt. Some might say a life debt."

Shit …

My throat tightened. "I beg your pardon?"

I fought to keep my expression even, my mind racing. How much did he know? How likely would this stranger be to, oh I don't know, turn in the person who burned a club down with prestigious members of society locked inside? My pulse climbed.

Duke Tovas rested a hand on mine. "Do not fear, Your Highness. Your secret is safe with me. Anyone who protects my most prized possession has my loyalty."

He looked over at Adari, mesmerized for a moment at the sight of his husband's effortless laughter in the queen's presence.

"Do tell me, Lyvias ," he said, enunciating my name with intent, "how is it, you think, that you and I became so lucky in love?"

He took a sip from his glass, patient for my response.

"I can't say I have an explanation that would suffice."

"Indeed. The Goddess, even in her absence, holds divine control within our kingdom."

Kimber's giggle stole my attention, and I bit my lip. How I wish Fate deemed me fit enough to step out into the light, to be Kim's true partner in every sense, but letting hope in was a dangerous thing. That's how hearts were broken; and considering mine was already littered with fractures, I wasn't sure I could survive her rejection. Better to stay focused on my mission and accept that some were more worthy of Fate's luck than me. If the Old Goddess bestowed luck on all who wished for it, it wouldn't truly be luck at all. Would it?

Tovas shot me a knowing look and leaned in close. "The time will come when you can be your true self again; and when it does, I would bet a great deal that Kimberly will be pleased with your union."

My head whipped towards him. "I'm not sure I know what you mean…"

His mustache wiggled in time with his chuckle. "Oh yes, you do. Rest assured, the house of Wentworth will be here for whatever you may need, little raven."

He knew I was a shifter? But how? And when? And—

Again, he set a hand on mine, this time his thumb brushing against my wrist. A peace settled over me suddenly as I watched light tendrils curl out from Tovas's hand. The magical mist around him burst forth, but he never took his eyes off of me.

I studied the ethereal beams around his head. "You…but how?"

"Fate is the mother of all, not just those who belong in the light. Anathema was never intended to be a realm of solely Death's vision. Look closely, but do not simply look with your eyes; look with your heart."

He motioned about the room, and I turned towards the dance floor. The world around me opened up in droves of refracted light. Colors I'd never seen—even after receiving June's gift—swam together overhead. Each magic plume stayed near its wielder but ventured off in curious adventure. Some played nice with others; some did not. What was crystal clear was the sheer variety of the guests' abilities. Some wielded both ethereal and baneful magics, yin and yang united somehow in one being. Some leaned one way or the other, and some—like the strange haze in the backmost corner that made my gut turn—were pure darkness. I blinked, and the somber cloud disappeared.

"You'd be wise to use that gifted sight of yours more often," Tovas said low enough for my ears only. "And should you need help honing it, I know a certain couple who would be more than happy to help you do so. After all, our generation had a Fate too, and she was a gracious giver."

He twirled his finger above his glass—projected light whirling within it—and the stiffness in my limbs relaxed. I could trust him. My intuition confirmed it beyond a shadow of a doubt. I bowed my head once before offering my hand to him.

"I would be honored to accept your offer."

"Then please call on us if you are ever in need, Your Highness." He took my hand in a firm shake. "And thank you again. The house of Wentworth is at your service."

With the tension of the night easing, I retrieved two glasses of champagne and offered one to Kimber on the dance floor sidelines. She took a large sip, a contented smile gracing her face.

"You look happy," I said.

"I am," she replied. "How could I not be, when everything I've ever wanted is within reach? Even if…"

Her face fell. I wondered as I watched her study the fizz in her glass if she was thinking of me. Missing me. I had the honor of seeing her face every day while she assumed her best friend was locked away in a coffin forever. Gods, how I missed being me to her. I missed our dark humor, our roving ghost hunts in the woods, our friendship. Just…us.

I faced her. "You've sacrificed so much, Kim. I'm sorry you've had to give parts of your heart away in order to fulfill your duty."

"Thank you. It hasn't been easy, but…" A pained expression tainted her beautiful face. "I think, if I had the chance to do it all over again, I would do the same thing. They would have wanted it that way."

They: Juniper and me. Part of me ached at her admission, though the majority of me beamed with pride. Anathema had inherited a great leader. The way she gave and how she chose her people regardless of the hardships it inflicted showed just how deeply she cared for kingdom. If balance was to be restored, we'd need a guide like her.

A tear ran down her cheek, but she brushed it away as quickly as it came. I wanted to tell her how brave she was. Wanted to wrap her in my arms, and confirm that—at least on my part—I would have wanted her to do exactly as she'd done. Prioritize herself and her kingdom over me. Instead, I attempted to break the growing tension the best I could.

"Think it's time we meet them? The Lords?"

She downed her fizzy drink in one go. "I do."

A cute pucker on her lips, she wove her fingers through mine, sending goosebumps up my arm. I squeezed her hand like she was the gravity holding me to the earth, because in a sense, she was.

The corner of her mouth curved up. "Don't get cocky. I'm just trying to sell us as a united front."

"Right." I couldn't help but laugh.

Tovas's advice repeated in the back of my mind. I used my gifted sight to determine the intentions of those around us as Kim and I made our rounds. Lord Tarrant of the reaper court swept us up in talk of the future. Drenched in elemental magic—hence the reaper's connection to the earth—I found not a single red flag in his narrative. He voiced his concern for his people and the disruption in his court since the shapeshifters' absence. My knowledge of the deal struck between Malachi and the Old Gods' baneful offspring made the reaper Lord's words heavier, his words sinking like a stone in my gut. Such ruthlessness had leaked into the court of balance and kindness, but ease overcame me at the realization that the ones who were behind those atrocities were gone. Dead and buried. We could focus now on the solutions.

Lord Drystan of the vampire court—still new to his role after Lyvias had succeeded to his title of "Counterpart to the Future Reigning Reaper"—and his beautiful wife were no different. They aspired for a united Anathema just as we did, believed we could do it. In Drystan's eyes, the restoration of our people was just around the corner. We'd won.

"Come, our next meeting is on the veranda," Kim said, leading us away from the bustling dance floor.

Something in me shifted the closer we drew to those double doors. My palms grew clammy, realization cracking hard against my brain. We readied ourselves for another meeting, yet we'd already met the remaining Lords. All the dukes. My mouth turned to sandpaper. Unless… A shadow cast itself over my newfound hope like an eclipse blocking out the sun.

Duke Jarlin and Duchess Nova stood encompassed in the castle's shade. Very much alive.

And very fucking angry.

Kim's discomfort showed in her shadows, their tendrils latching around my arm. Her intuition was spot on, but running wasn't an option until I knew exactly what we were up against. Despite the dread coursing through me, I reassured Kimber. We'd make it quick, and the first second I had, I'd whisk her off to safety. Because if they had survived? Who knew who else had escaped that burning building.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

"Greetings, children," Duke Jarlin bit out. "Finally, you grace us with your presence."

His sights drilled into me, the tension growing thick. Wrong…this is all wrong. A knot formed in my throat as Nova studied Kimber far too closely for my liking; the duchess's lip curled up in disgust the more she looked. My hands clenched at my sides. That look had broken many a woman in her lifetime no doubt, but Kim didn't break easily. Still, I fought the urge to hurl the bitch over the railing to her second death like a sack of rotten potatoes.

"We apologize for the wait. But the princess and I merely meant to save the best for last," I said through my teeth.

Jarlin snuffed his nose upward, turning his attention to Kimber. The weight of his stare on her made my gums throb, tempting me to satisfy my growing thirst by ripping his damn jugular clean out of his throat. How the hell had they escaped?

He pursed his lips before addressing her. "Tell me, does the princess speak through her lowly counterpart often, or does the girl speak for herself?"

Kimber's rage erupted, taking hold of her. Kim bit back—the situation escalating as Jarlin's snide comments baited her further—when the hair on the back of my neck stood up. Not on account of Jarlin or his sadistic wife though. Something lurked. Watched us intently. It burrowed under my skin, haunting me as I searched through the glass. I scoured the crowd. Shadows darted about, which I quickly dismissed since Kimber's shadows always reeled when she was upset. She stepped into the duke's face.

"See that your attitude is greatly improved upon our next meeting, Duke Jarlin, or I'll be forced to take much more," she cinched his tie hard against his throat, "aggressive measures. Do I make myself clear?"

That's my girl.

Jarlin drifted past as he excited the veranda, hurling his harsh, final words at Kim. But I knew his words were truly meant for me.

"I might urge you to pay better attention to those you aim to make an enemy," he said, tapping the rim of her glass once. "You never know when one might sneak up, hellbent on revenge."

His hand dipped into his pocket, reappearing to drop something on the marble floor. My pulse clapped in my ears— the scene around me slowing—and I stole a look at my feet to find my worst fear.

Oleander blooms.

Everything sped up tenfold, my eyes landing on Kim as she noticed the fizzing tablet in her drink a second too late. Why hadn't I seen it? Why hadn't I been more careful? Fuck!

I barely caught her before she hit the floor, her glass shattering.

"Death! Help me!"

I frantically searched the crowd. Anyone, everyone, someone had to help her! A shadow lifted my jaw, forcing my gaze to the ballroom's edge. Ice coursed through my veins as the crowd surged forward, running to catch a glimpse of what had happened. My target, however, stood eerily still.

Him.

Wrapped in darkness, Malachi offered me one gesture: a coin flipped high in the air. That night in the woods—back when Kim and I had thought reclaiming her throne would be simple—thrashed through my memory. We'd baited a demon in the forest for his blood, his hound primed to devour me. Damn it, I should have known! Should have seen the warning signs. Of course it'd been Malachi and Odin all along, their presence eclipsing our doorstep ever since. My throat tightened. I'd underestimated them.

Malachi referenced the coin in his hand, pointed to me, and shook his head, sealing my fate. I was a dead man. He wrapped an arm around Odin—fresh burns bubbling up on his throat—and they drifted out of view.

Kim began to seize in my arms, a buzz thrumming through my clenched teeth. I had one last chance to make this right. One. A horrible, awful, maybe impossible chance.

I'd have to bleed her out.