46. “You’re not so bad, are you, Death?”

ZENYA

"A Twist in My Story" by Secondhand Serenade

T he crash of the wall jerks me awake, and I groan and cup my forehead, wondering what my boys are up to now.

Rolling my eyes and muttering curses, I scramble out of bed. My breath catches at the sight of the elegant flamework scrawling down the center of my body, the curling tips of the flames touching the shadows on one side and Nyxion's bones on the other.

Heat fills my chest as I consider Hecate's handiwork in this, in all of this. The crossroads where we meet. The magic in our blood. And the torches we follow home.

Hearing another crash and huffing, I weave myself a silk robe and prepare to follow the trail of shadows and bone dust. Who knows what they'll damage if I don't knock some sense into them?

After teasing my hands through my messy hair, I head for the door—but freeze in my tracks. The chill sweeps across the room, prickling my hairs and icing my blood. But I heave a sigh, a deep one of gratitude, and slowly turn to face the familiar figure in the corner of the room concealed in the shadows.

I advance to him, my fingers calmly curled at my sides. His skeletal form looms over me, but there is a gentleness in his eyes, a deep respect that I sense even Death rarely bestows.

"You've shaken the very foundations of their worlds, Zenya," he says, his voice low and reverent. "For the first time, they battle not out of envy, competition, or power. they battle as brothers. And if they go to war, they will war together to protect you. They are yours to command, just as you are theirs."

His words settle in my chest, love deepening their gravity. "Thank you, Thanatos," I say softly, pursing my lips as I observe him. "For dealing with me, for giving my soul to Ivy when I asked. Thank you for telling them to form an anchor for me. And how I could weave a new soul into being because of it."

Thanatos inclines his head in acknowledgment, his skeletal wings rustling softly. "You earned that right through your sacrifice, Zenya," he replies, a note of pride in his tone. "What I said before was true—you've proven yourself in ways even the gods couldn't anticipate."

I take in his words, my intuition sparking a glimmer of understanding. "You're not so bad, are you, Death?" I wonder, feeling a smile playing on my lips. That's when I notice the delicate rose petals frozen in the ice crystals along his skull again. I gesture to them. "What's the story behind them?"

A soft, almost wistful energy seems to flow from him, and his black eyes become liquid pools. "It's the favorite flower of someone I love very much. Someone who can love Death as strongly as she loves life. Just as you, Zenya, can love the Nightmare as fiercely as you do the Dream. And you, the Crossroads, with Magic binding you."

Bittersweet warmth swells in my heart. Before I can second guess myself, I stand on my tiptoes, brushing my lips against the icy cheek of his skull. "Lucky girl," I whisper in his ear.

I slip into the thinnest fog, Eclipse taking a moment to front, though I still feel the warm, fuzzy tingles. "Good to see you again, Death."

A gasp lodges in my throat at the realization of how Eclipse isn't just referring to this time, our times with him.

"Give my best to the beautiful monster that is your sister," she shares with Thanatos. "I hope our paths will cross again someday."

He touches a dark hand to his robe above his heart and bows his skull to her. "None but the Fates themselves can say."

Eclipse fades with a smile, and I return, only to discover Death has vanished. Nothing but frost and the scent of dead rose petals in his wake.

I lift my hand in a silent gesture of farewell before I turn around and make for the throne room, ready to face my boys and bring Dream and Nightmare together.

And I don't need an Eye or a hyoid bone to do it.