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I jut out my hip with a roll of my eyes. “Persefoni…meaning “Bringer of Death”. Seriously?”
That knowing smirk tugs one side of his full mouth. Damn it. I cannot conquer this brother’s humor, and he knows it.
Unlike Neo, Natos doesn’t lord it over me but merely gestures to his hellcat, who snorts as if I’ve scratched her the wrong way before she puffs a few embers to my frost dress and turns, tail flicking my chin.
“You’ll have to forgive Persefoni.” Thanatos curves one finger along my spine, triggering a shudder since my back is thanks to the plunging gown’s open design. “She’s a little jealous since the only son she ever sired imprinted on a certain flame-summoningangel.”
I snap my head to Thanatos, my jaw falling. Spitfire. My heart almost sinks as I discern if he just shattered my chart.
While his single index finger ascends to the back of my neck to settle upon his sickle mark, Thanatos leans in, cocking his head to the side. Oh, Saints! That trickle of gold practically moans from my sex. His pupils dilate to show me those constellations. Fingers like cold poems on the back of my neck, Thanatos dethrones himself by revealing, “Elysia, you willalwaysshatter my chart. Now, come…I must do Court.”
Chapter8
“I will rectify your desire.”
With his hand on the small of my back, Thanatos directs me to his throne. “Sit here, Halo-Bearer.” Astonished, all I can seem to do is purse my lips and gaze at that crystal throne that could hold three of my bodies, along with a full-grown hellcat. Then, Death leans in and whispers frost into my ear, “I wish for you to have a good seat.”
Oh, Saints!
I trace my hand along the frost crystals, some as thin as a harp string with others as thick as Neo’s scythe blades. One kiss of frost on the base of my spine coaxes me to sit. With how much the heat of my desire sears my insides, I need the contrast of Thanatos’ power more than ever.
Inhaling a deep breath, I slowly lower myself onto the throne—cold as a wintry moon. The frosted waterfall of my gown slips through one of the balcony gaps to weep down toward the Soul Lake. It barely skims the surface.
Thanatos wasn’t exaggerating. From here, I can see everything. Hundreds of miles of the Lake in all directions with the Gates of Death in the distance. Off to my left is a deep, tremulous haze, but a great tower in the distance rises through the darkness—visible enough to glimpse the spire of a castle. Beyond that haze, the sound of millions of souls echoes their woeful cries.
“What is that place?” I wonder about the eternity of haze.
Thanatos taps my cheek with just a nip of frost, luring my eyes back to his. “Limbo. The Castle of Souls lies beyond at the highest most point.”
I gaze behind me at the soul-scraper, marveling as I believed this was the Castle of Souls. What is this place that lies beyond the Gates of Death, beyond the Chasm, but lingers outside the boundaries of Limbo?
Curious, I tilt my head to study that fathomless expanse of Limbo. “Is that where you tracked Verena?”
“I harnessed her soul and returned her to my Lake, yes,” he offers, fingers sliding to trace my sickle brand. “Many souls with unfinished business may try to run from me. I’ll bargain with some. Others, I’ll release.”
“What about—”
“Later, Elysia,” he interrupts, voice resolute and commanding as he indicates to the throne. Sighing, I accept, refraining from my host of questions.
As soon as I take my seat, Thanatos orders his hellcats to guard me before he forsakes the balcony—so swift, his frost and shades slap against my body. A spine-tingling chill sweeps over me, but my Halo offers warm ripples to thaw my flesh. Thanatos slowly sails down to the Lake, forming an ice pedestal in midair…where he lands. His gaze passes over the assemblies of souls as if he’s fathomed the light of each one as if he’s read their stories and memorized the beat of their identities.
The Court O’ Death is nothing like the Court O’ Destruction. And at the same time, they are so similar. All of it gives me a sense of déjà vu. Except when Thanatos stands from his pedestal to commence Court, all he needs is one word. “Come.”
Just as I had in Neo’s Court, I remain still and silent. I listen and observe the primacy and dominion of Death. He does not need a quicksilver tongue, and I imagine I’m a rarity who has heard his dark humor. Here, Thanatos is supreme, for while many do indeed run from Death as he’d referenced, none can truly hide from him.
Overwhelming respect and even fear swell in my chest. The fear is a good thing—bred of darkness and danger and deep desire, though shame twists inside me because I should focus more on Neo. Not his brother. I push aside the gnawing guilt. For now, I give all my attention to the proceedings.
Unlike Neo’s Court, there are no blood duties here. For those who have passed, soul light is the only form of blood. So, when Thanatos summons countless souls to rise from his Lake, I knot my fingers and shift until I’m on the edge of my seat. There are well over a hundred—a tapestry of shimmering bodiless star streaks of varying different shades and colors. Lake water falls off them like spirit tears.
None shine as resplendent as you, Elysia…Thanatos echoes through our limited bond without turning from his pedestal. Lashes heavy, I feel a soft smile and lean forward.
The souls hover in the air to his command. None higher than him…apart from me.
For a glimmer of a moment, he allows each one to retain bodily form—arrayed in soul dust. I memorize the different gestures for how Thanatos settles accounts.
For souls who wish to retain the form of a ghost and walk among the land of the living through dreams and lost places, Thanatos imparts a breath of frost and sends them through one layer of spirit fabric to haunt the living. Or to become spirit guides. I notice he does this even with the souls who seem darker, whose souls are haunted by unfinished business. Did Verena have the choice to become a ghost, a spirit guide for me? All I know is she chose Syn. Not that I blame her.
Perhaps my favorite part is when Thanatos officiates the union of a soul marriage by kissing frost into the brows of a couple before sending them on soul wings to Elysium. Ice roses in their hands, no less.
