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“Why haven’t I heard of them?”
“There aren’t many. Perhaps one every hundred years, if that. So when, a very long time ago, I heard of one in a nearby country, I decided to face it.”
“Why would you do that? If something’s called a god killer, I’d stay away from it.”
“I was tired. It felt as though it was worth it to face the god killer, that one of us would die.”
“And you didn’t care that it might be you who died?”
“Not really, no. I found it in a cavern, a boy no older than eighteen, despite the fact that he had killed so many of my kind.”
“What happened? You killed it?”
He shook his head. “No. That is a story for another time, though. My point is, if I wasn’t afraid of him, a thing made specifically to kill me, I’m not going to fear you.”
It wasn’t that he trusted me, that I wasn’t different, but rather that he’d dealt with far scarier things than me.
Still, I chose to take it as a win. I’d even feared when he’d refused to talk to me that it had been because of that, that he’d decided a reaper was a complication he didn’t need in his life.
“Besides,” he said, before he ran his fingers through my hair, “I don’t have any reason to be afraid of you.”
“Why’s that? Because you know I wouldn’t ever hurt you?”
“No. Because reapers snatch souls from bodies and, as you like to point out, I don’t have one.”
I let out a soft laugh against his chest as I settled in. Sure, I had a lot to do, a lot to worry about, but it all seemed a little easier to handle there, against him.
