His muscles coiled as he prepared to act. For what, he didn’t know, but he couldn’t ignore the urgent dread filling him. He noted her simple T-shirt as she moved past him. The cool air should’ve chilled her exposed skin, but it didn’t.
She moved toward the edge with horrifying precision. His instincts demanded that he intervene, but if this was the curse, stopping her now might only delay the inevitable. He debated making himself known, but he held back, unsure if his presence would break the spell or trigger it.
As Thanatos struggled to choose between intervention and observation, another face came to mind. Another life he’d hesitated to save.
She moved onto the ledge.
Fates, damn it.
He appeared behind her, wings concealed yet ready to move if needed. “This is not the answer. Come down.”
The woman ignored him. Time slowed as her foot moved out toward empty air.
He leapt forward. His arms wrapped around her waist, yanking her back against him before she plummeted.
As he held her, her warmth, along with her steady heartbeat, sent an unexpected thrill through him. Fragile. Mortal. Nothing like the souls he carried. Alive.
A memory surged—centuries old—of a woman whose defiance had burned bright, only to go limp in his arms. He shook his head, banishing it and focusing on the living mortal. She was safe. He hadn’t failed.
Thanatos set her back on her feet, holding her steady. He searched for signs that the Fates had destined her for death.
It wasn’t her time.
He turned her to face him. “What were you thinking?”
She didn’t flinch or respond at all. He tilted her chin up and met a cold, empty gaze.This wasn’t despair or an attempt to end her own life. This was more sinister.
His irritation cooled into something more calculated.Clearly, he couldn’t trust her on her own. At least in this state, she wouldn’t fight him.
“Trying to jump off the gods-damned roof,” he muttered, more to himself than her. “What happened to you?”
She didn’t register his words or seem to be aware of anything.
His frustration deepened. He had no answers, only more questions, but the growing anxiety about her condition pressed him to act. She needed safety. A place where he could watch over her, and where Hypnos might find answers he couldn’t.
He lifted her gently, cradling her close. Her stillness mixed with the bright fragrance of cinnamon and honey was disconcerting.
Without another thought, he willed them both invisible. Spreading his wings, he took to the skies. He would need permission to take her into the Underworld, and there was only one god who could grant it.
But what would Hades demand in return?
Chapter three
ILIANA
The stone under her feet was cold.
A sage-scented wind brushed her face, sending loose strands of hair skimming across her skin. Above, stars shone brilliantly in the endless sky. City lights below looked like a second constellation. As she walked, a flash of white held her attention: a feather blowing in the cool breeze and off the roof.
Everything was achingly normal. Beautiful. Real.
Sleep deprivation. It had to be. Dreams weren’t supposed to feel this real; this cold. If she could control it, she would’ve stopped her feet. But her body kept walking to the edge of the roof.
It’s a dream. It’s just a dream.
She climbed onto the ledge. The distant honking from the street below penetrated the fog in her mind. Someone spoke behind her. Instead of turning back, she stepped off the ledge.
Muscular arms caught her, dragging her back and away from the streets below.
