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Wynter snorted. “I think you’d totally force me to stay in Devil’s Cradle if it became necessary, so yeah.” She wasn’t blind to his nature. She knew how merciless he could be. And he was out of his mind if he thought she’d let herself overlook it to seek the bliss of ignorance. No, we don’t do that shit here.
He looked as if he’d protest in affront, but then he inclined his head. “Yes, I would do that if you ever wanted to leave me—denying that would only insult us both. But I wouldn’t succeed in holding you here. Kali wouldn’t stand for me keeping you anywhere against your will. She’d free you somehow.” He let out a long breath. “I know I’m asking a lot—”
“No, I really don’t think you do. You often have people selling you their soul. It’s pretty much the norm for you. A mundane part of your life, even. You can’t truly grasp how much of a big deal this is. Unless of course the rumors are true that you sold your own soul to the devil in exchange for power.”
“My soul is mine, and mine alone.” He looked at her curiously. “You thought I might be soulless, that I might have traded mine for power, and yet you let me touch you?”
Wynter lifted her shoulders. “I’d be in no position to judge, would I? When a deity made me an offer, I jumped on it. I stupidly and naïvely didn’t consider what the fine print might be, and that bit me on the ass. So forgive me if I’m a little leery of making yet another life-changing deal. You might not be a deity, but you’re something way out of the norm. Something powerful enough to grant a person all manner of things in exchange for their soul. It’s kind of daunting, you know. And it makes your request just as daunting.”
“Back up a little, baby,” he said, resting his hands on her upper arms. “You were not stupid or naïve for accepting Kali’s offer. You were desperate. Dying. Helpless. She presented you with something that would have been near impossible for anyone who was rendered powerless to refuse: A simple choice.”
“But you would think that a ten year old would have been at least a little afraid to find herself talking with any deity, let alone one as ruthless as Kali is known to be. I didn’t even question why She would have come to me when it wasn’t Her I called out to.”
“I think that She saw something in you. Something that intrigued and impressed her.”
Wynter let out a soft, incredulous snort. “No deity would have found me impressive in that moment. I was terrified.”
“But you didn’t crawl into a corner of your mind to escape what was happening, did you?”
Well, no. “The pull to disassociate was strong, but I kept trying to fight the paralytic magick that held me.” She hadn’t been willing to admit defeat; to allow those boys to steal her life.
“And when it didn’t work, when Nyx didn’t come, you still didn’t give up that fight. You didn’t give into the pain or the fear.”
“Because I was so damn angry. Or it was more like I reached for anger because it would drown out everything else. Whatever.”
“And I’ll bet you didn’t beg for death or a reprieve from the pain when you reached out to Nyx. What did you ask of Her?”
“I wanted Her to make the boys suffer,” Wynter admitted.
“And in doing all of that, you got Kali’s attention.”
Unsure, Wynter pulled a face. “I get what you’re saying, but I think I was kind of young to snag a deity’s interest.”
She felt an otherworldly wash of air brush over her nape—it seemed to carry a “tone” of objection. Cain didn’t react, so she guessed he hadn’t sensed that Kali was close. Sometimes he did. But a lot of times, he didn’t. Well, Kali was sneaky.
“Personally, I believe that She thought She could mold you,” he said.
“Into what?”
“A weapon. One She needs in order to achieve a goal that She refuses to share with me. Much as I don’t like it, you are a weapon, Wynter. Revenants are instruments of death. Destruction. Vengeance. That’s what She made you into.”
Wynter didn’t lament that. To be truthful, she liked the power she could wield. She didn’t even mind that she hosted a monster. It was something she was used to at this point.
“Kali’s been with you all these years, guiding you—sometimes subtly, sometimes not so subtly. And I know that She wouldn’t have been so invested in you for a casual reason, so I also know that whatever task She has for you won’t be something minor. That makes me nervous. She could very well send you back to the netherworld when you’ve fulfilled Her purpose. I can’t have that. I have a way to stop it from happening. All you have to do is agree.”
Wynter inwardly snorted. Oh, it was “all” she had to do, was it? “What happens to the souls you own after their bodies die?”
He caught her face with his hands, his gaze boring into hers. “If your body was to die, I would release your soul. You would be reborn. And then I would fucking find you. I wouldn’t stop until I did. And then I’d make you mine all over again.”
Which was incredibly sweet but didn’t really answer her question. “You could only find me if you got out of this cage,” she pointed out.
“Oh, I’ll have my freedom soon enough. But if I didn’t, I would send others to search for you. I told you, I refuse to spend the rest of my existence without you.” He combed his fingers through her hair. “Would giving up your mortality to be with me really be so awful?”
Wynter sighed. “No.” She didn’t want to be without him. She didn’t want to grow old while he forever looked the picture of a man in his late twenties to early thirties. She didn’t want to lose this person who made her feel that she belonged with them. No one else had ever really done that. “Surely this can’t be the only option.”
He twisted his mouth. “There’s one other way I could ensure that you didn’t live a mortal lifespan. It wouldn’t enhance your strength or speed or resiliency, but it would mean you stopped aging.”
“You don’t sound whatsoever keen on it,” she noted.
