Chapter 61

Ididn't buckle when Orin descended the steps like a minion and stopped before me. I didn't waver. I held my chin high and my body rigid, though internally I struggled.

Look at me,I begged him, stroking the end of our bond.

But he did no such thing. I inched away, convinced he would reach for me, that my power would break the trance on contact. But he didn't move.

"Ezra," Death called, "bring the lovely Huntress forward."

A chill ran down my spine, echoing the gasp of the room when his deep voice responded, "No."

"Perhaps you didn't hear," Death answered. His voice hardened as he curled a finger toward the man until he fell to a knee, veins protruding to fight the pain. "I said, bring your guest to me."

The only response was a grunt as Ezra struggled to stay upright.

"Stop this," Paesha cried, trying and failing to lift her lover from his knees.

"No," Ezra said again. Love was the only thing that gave him power over Death, foolish as it might have been.

"Please do take care of this, son," Death crooned, stepping back and stroking a finger over his forehead as if dealing with unruly children.

"Orin, don't," Paesha cried, leaving Ezra behind to dart up the aisle. "That's your family. Your real family. Ezra is your best friend, your brother. You know him."

But when he shoved past her toward Ezra, I did the only thing I could think of and darted for him, whipping Chaos from my thigh and hurling it, end over end, until it grazed his arm, tearing his loose black shirt and falling to the ground between the two men.

He spun, obsidian eyes full of hatred as he snarled.

"Come and get me, you bastard," I taunted, shifting from one foot to another, sliding right back into a place that was so familiar to us both. I saw the recognition flash across his hardened face.

Death commanded him to stop as he stormed my way, but he didn't listen. Not as he crowded my space, not as he sneered, not even as he reached for me, gripping my throat with such anger, had the contact not instantly pierced the darkness, he might have ripped my damn head off.

"There you are, Husband," I rasped, gulping over his grip, luring out the man buried within.

He bared his teeth, still fighting the power. "Maiden."

Not wife. Maiden. He'd forgotten me.

"I think you mean Nightmare." I painted a sly smile, fighting to keep the relief from my face when the Orin I'd known peeked through. When he faltered, though, I doubted anyone had seen. He was there, so far away, but still there. And he was mine because I'd never feared his darkness. "Please continue to fight, my darling. I love a good challenge."

Words he'd once spoken to me left my tongue like a promise. A vow to save him, even if he couldn't hear the meaning. Fingers tightened as the room held unnecessary breaths. I imagined they all wanted to see my eventual demise, but I only focused on my love for him. Willing him to feel it as potent as the power within me.

Death's hand crept over his son's shoulder. "There, there, son. We all know she is a monstrous little thing, but do try to control yourself. Take all three to the pit and meet me for dinner." He spun on a heel and walked out, robes billowing in a phantom wind behind him.

Orin's grip on my throat fell away, but still, he grabbed my arm, hauling me down the aisle. I reached for Paesha, snagging her hand and pulling her behind us. Ezra followed without command. He would not leave her. And I think, though I didn't know him at all, I loved him instantly for the way he loved her.

The second we were out of the hall, I called forth the Life Maiden power, pushing and shoving on it, willing it to free him. He faltered. His footsteps halted. His shoulders fell, and those amber eyes flew to mine. His grasp on my arm tightened as he shoved me into an alcove without a single word, pressing his body to mine, kissing me with more fervor than I'd known him to ever hold as he buried his hands into my hair, eliciting a moan. Letting the power pulse, I slipped my hands behind his neck, my cool fingers caressing his sweltering skin as I let him devour me. Until my belly pooled with desire, and I wanted nothing more than to let the world fade away and demand he kiss every inch, taste every part of me, defeating any hint of Death's power over him as I pushed more and more magic between us. I could do this. I could save him. I just needed enough time.

But Paesha cleared her throat, ripping us from the heated moment. The second he stepped away, all signs of him were gone once more.

"Dey," she said, her voice low in warning.

"I know," I stammered, still reaching for him, though he'd faded back to darkness.

"We need?—"

"I know," I snapped, a piece of my heart breaking.

Orin snatched my wrist and continued our winding journey through Death's dark castle.

"At least it's not the Lake of Lost Souls," Ezra said as Orin slammed shut the door to the room we'd been shoved into, his footsteps immediately fading away on the other side of the door.

The pit was a chamber carved from the very bowels of Death's castle. Its walls were hewn from gray stone that absorbed whatever feeble light struggled to penetrate the abyss. I choked on the air, thick and stifling, carrying with it a noxious scent that made every breath a laborious effort.

The meager illumination from scattered dim torches revealed the horrors of our confinement. Chains, thick as tree trunks, hung from the towering ceiling, their ends disappearing into the inky darkness above. Each chain bore cruel-looking manacles that swayed ominously, awaiting their next victims.

"Don't look up," Ezra said, swinging an arm over Paesha as he held out a hand to me. "I'm Ezra Prophet. Thank you for making it painless."

I took his hand, though I couldn't pull my eyes from the door. "It seemed like the least I could do."

"Come on." Paesha wrapped me in a hug before leading me to a bench along the far wall of the room. "We'll figure it out."

"Whatever happens," Ezra said, his words turning shaky, more fearful than when he'd denied Death, "it's not real, okay? Just keep telling yourselves that."

"What's not?—"

Paesha's words were cut off by the high-pitched scream of some kind of monstrous beast stepping from the shadows just as all but one torch went out. Long, haggard hair and needle-like claws scraped the stone floor as venom dripped from tapered, razor-sharp canines. Within minutes of the beast's appearance, though it hadn't come closer than the very edges of the light cast onto the jagged floor, it became a symphony of screaming and crying. Tortuous sounds clawed its way from the beast's throat until it was maddening.

I covered my ears, just as the other two had done, but the screaming echoed off the walls until, like a blade to a throat, it stopped. Suddenly and without warning.

"Cover your eyes!" Ezra shouted, as if he'd had his fair share of time in this version of hell, and he knew exactly what to expect.

I'd spent too many seconds considering that, not listening to his command. When the torches flared to life, illuminating the entire cavern, the gaunt faces of a thousand ghosts stared back at me, their eyes as ruby red as the hellhounds, all smiling, each one making my skin crawl.

"Look harder," one whispered, floating back and forth, back and forth as black, oiled hair covered most of her face.

I couldn't tear my gaze away, couldn't stop the rise of my own panic when she rushed forward, her terrifying face only inches from mine before she disappeared, and another came for me. Ignoring the two with their eyes well covered, the spectral whispered the same maddening thoughts I'd heard in the forest outside of the castle.

"Death's Maiden… blood's mistress… soul's keeper."

Twisting my head away, I glanced down at movement on my arm, jumping when a spider the size of my palm appeared, crawling up my arm. I couldn't escape, couldn't force my eyes closed.

"Riddle whispers… chaos echoes…thief…"

I slammed my hands over my ears, trying to block the echo of sounds that drove me deeper and deeper into a place I was far too familiar with.

Hello, Maiden.

"No!" I shouted, pushing against Death's madness.

The reprieve is in her blood.

A visceral desire to see the crimson drops of Paesha's blood spilling onto the cracked stone floor crept into my mind. To see life leave her eyes. To watch Ezra fall over her body, taking even more from him than I already had.

I rocked back and forth, humming to block the sound. The need. The blood. The blood.

The blood.

"Stop," I pleaded, losing my sense of self in seconds as I stared into the eyes of the ghosts, watching tears of blood dripping down their faces. I wished I could run my fingers through it. Paint the walls with it. Bathe in it.

I drew a breath, fighting for myself. For her. For him. For every ounce of resolve I'd ever have, as my trembling hand gripped one of the daggers strapped to my chest.

"It's not real," I told myself.

"It's not real," Ezra echoed.

She cannot die. She's already in Death's court. I cannot kill her. I repeated the mantra in my mind until the voice of madness laughed back at me.

She has not yet died. Take it. Take her life.

"No," I managed to whisper.

Yours.

Mine.

Ours.

No.

The blood.

The blood.

The body. The soul.

"Stop," I pleaded, feeling myself weaken, the small handle of the throwing knife vibrating against my palm. Paesha lay in Ezra's lap, slender hands over her ears, face twisted in pain.

I had no pain.

She had pain.

Sweet, beautiful pain. Like the slice of a blade across flawless skin. Like the final breath of a dancer at the end of a performance.

A gasp.

A gasp.

I gripped the edge of the bench with my free hand, watching the pulse of her heart in her throat, the artery luring me.

"It's not real!" Paesha screamed, momentarily breaking the trance.

I drew a heavy breath into my lungs, remembering that I was no longer Death's. The darkness was not the whole of my being. I belonged to Life, too. To happiness. To birth and healing. To laughter and a family who loved me. To her.

Drawing forth the light that'd almost vanished within me, I fought against the darkness until the voices were silenced. Until saving her was not enough. Until every bit of light begged for escape, and then I let it. Releasing the power, allowing it to surge through Death's pit. Filling every crevice, each shadowed corner with pure, blinding radiance.

"Dey?" Paesha squinted at me. "You're kind of glowing."

A tear slipped down my cheek. "I'm so glad."

She had no idea the battle I'd just fought, and I hoped she never would.

"Impeccable timing," Ezra said, drawing both of our attention to the open door.

Every part of my body froze. I couldn't move. Or breathe. Nor think beyond the old man standing there, his kind eyes and simple smile a balm to a racing heart.

"Hello, Little Dove."