Chapter 35

THIRTY-FIVE

Mac landed on his feet, in a dead sprint, chanting "No, no, no..." as he slid onto his knees beside Jason. He hauled Paris into his arms, holding his body close. He was too cold, too still. The bond between them pulsed erratically, dimming bit by bit.

"Come on, Paris, stay with me." He cupped his cheek, wiping away the tear tracks that stained his beautiful, pale face. He forced more love, more gratitude, more pride through the bond. "You did it, baby. You slayed the giant. Now come back to me. Open your eyes, please ."

"Mac," he mumbled weakly.

"I'm right here."

His eyelids fluttered open, and hazy violet irises stared back at Mac. "Help me."

"What do you need?"

"The stars. Mom."

Mac lifted his gaze and cursed the fog.

"The ocean," Paris rasped.

"We're right by it."

"Can't hear," Paris said, shaking his head, eyes slipping closed again. "Need to, one last time."

Mac's heart stopped, then caved in on itself. "No, no, no, we said forever."

"Please," Paris whispered on a shallow breath.

Beside them, Liam kneeled and clasped Mac's shoulder. "Do you need me to help?"

He glanced at his brother, finding his face as wet as Mac's felt, his eyes swirling with shared grief.

Mac nodded, and Liam helped him to his feet, steadied him as he adjusted Paris in his arms. He turned toward the water and met Adam's stormy gaze. Asked him, without a word, if he was ready to fulfill a promise.

Adam nodded.

And with that reassurance, Mac put one foot in front of the other, Liam on one side, Jason on the other, as he carried his precious cargo across the slippery rocks to the water's edge where Mary waited.

He sank to his knees, letting it wash around them, and the smile that graced Paris's face was pure peace, the same one he wore in sleep and ecstasy, in everyday life as he brightened the world around him, the same one that had convinced Mac to love again.

Mary kneeled beside him. "Are you ready to let him go?"

"Never."

"Are you ready to take his place?"

Caught off guard by her question, Mac looked up and found Mary's gaze on Liam.

"I am," his brother answered.

"What—" Mac started, then gasped as the water around them turned green and violet, and the souls he'd seen escape came rushing back across the top of the gentle breakers, back to Paris, as if he and Mary had called them. They surrounded Paris in his arms, warming his body and caging in his soul, keeping him there.

With him.

"You've done enough," Mary said. "Both of you. Now they want to return the favor, and so do I."

A spark of hope caught, like the embers of the fireplace back at the cabin. "We can have forever?"

"You can have what you deserve," she said. "Liam is the reaper now. You'll deliver no more souls until it's time to deliver his," she said with a nod to Paris. "And you'll deliver yours with him. Many, many years in the future, if you can help it."

Mac laughed, improbably, then leaned over and pressed his forehead to Paris's warming one. "Do you still want forever with me?"

"Forever," Paris whispered back, sealing the future Mac hadn't dared hope for until the man in his arms grabbed hold of his soul and refused to let go.