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Death finishes its frigid journey at the nape of my neck, but I’m not ready to forsake his chest. Like always, his black robes are cold as his name, but my mouth pressed there tingles as if anenergybeneath his robes exists—powerful and echoing from the stars. I cling to those robes, seeking that energy.
As if he understands what I’m trying to do, Thanatos gently pushes me away and alerts me, “He’s been waiting for you.”
A second later, Spitfire bats at the frost gown’s ends. With a soft smile, I kneel to greet my hellcat. A mistake since he’s the size of a full-grown cougar by now—strong enough to knock me on the floor. Thanatos’ frost catches me, forming a soft, arctic bed to contrast Spitfire’s heat. I laugh as my hellcat languidly licks my face, his tongue warm and aching for my flames.
Syn stands in the corner of the room, arms crossed over her chest, nose thrust high in the air, back braced against the wall. As soon as my eyes flick to hers, she bares rows of those razor teeth in warning, “You try humping me again, Princess, and my snakes will eat your hellcat for breakfast.”
I touch my fingers to my mouth, covering my giggle. Spitfire snorts, then cocks his head down so he may lick his chest as if reminding me his belly is empty. Thrusting my head up, I eye Thanatos, who fetches his Reaper robe, so I know he’s about to go to Court. As if he can feel my eyes on his back, Death sighs, shrugging into his tattered robe, rolling his shoulders back, and pressing his hands down on his dark shadow hair.
“You won’t be content to stay here, Elysia. Nor can I risk you running into that damned buzzing satyr,” Thanatos mentions just before he extends an arm to me in invitation.
I don’t hesitate. Not for a second. Gliding to my feet, I hasten into his arms, practically leaping with a flutter in my belly. Eager to learn more from the Scourge souls, to learn anything I can about Thanatos, about Neo, about their history, anything I might use to restore my husband’s heart, I do my best to ignore that undercurrent of heat eddying in my belly when Thanatos closes his arms around me.
After he secures his arm around the backs of my thighs to hoist me up, I curve my face into his neck, brushing my mouth to his skin, smirking at the way his silver veins awaken and sprout ice buds on his flesh.Puretorture? I think not.
“I’m certain my Persefoni would appreciate a visit from her son tonight, wouldn’t you say?” Thanatos distracts me while he strengthens his hand muscles right beneath my ass. I’ll allow that. The butterflies in my belly erupt and do little flips.
“But how—”
“Feed him something he can sample along the way. Becreative,” hums Thanatos low in my ear. “Leave a trail. Command him, and he will follow.”
Halo breadcrumbs it is, then. Except mine take the form of a giant gold eel—a steady current of heat radiating from my chest. So, when Thanatos opens his bone door and adds to Syn, “Please join us, hunter. Limbo has been stirring tonight, and I have a feeling the damned will berestless…” the bounty hunter presses her lips into an eager smile.
Spitfire gobbles up my undulating eel, following.
“Come, Spitfire!” I order as Thanatos crosses onto the walkway.
I throw my arms around Thanatos’ neck when the inertia of him charging off the walkway spears my stomach, knocking the wind out of me. He bears all my weight with just one hand. Then again, in the Soul Plane, weight is a relative term. So is flight since he doesn’t use any wings to fly through the air…unless they’re invisible to me.
“What?!” I scream at the sight of my hellcat vaulting right off the platform and unleashing a great set of wings that match his dark hide so he may devour my Halo’s eel trail. “Hegets wings?” I thrust my head back to narrow my eyes upon Thanatos.
With a low chuckle in his throat, Thanatos responds with his fingers curling down to the panes of bare skin at the base of my spine. “You will get those wings someday, my love.” He lowers his head to brush his lips along my brow.
“Don’t,” I warn. He doesn’t get to claim that. Only Neo.
Thanatos shoots his frost right into the tail end of spine, triggering me into a sudden arch, but his other hand catches the back of my neck. “Like for like,Elysia.” Oh, that damned Reaper!
“An eye for an eye, Death?” I reference kissing his neck just a moment ago.
He leans in and purrs low to my ear, “Atoothfor atooth?”
Fuuuuuuuck.
Weaving my arms back around his neck, I bring my forehead to bear down on his, my gold-ringed eyes blazing against his, and snarl, “Never, Death.”You will not get my tooth, I nearly add. He would probably reap his brother’s soul right in front of me if I did that.
Unlike Neo, Natos does not challenge. He doesn’t need to, not when he’s already won this battle. Defeating me every time. Dealing with Death is the opposite of Destruction. With Neo, I’d rise to the challenge every time. Not with Death. Certainly, I’ve given him my fair share, but something deep within me calls to Death…temptinghim as much as he tempts me. He already has a piece of my soul from that Noralice night, but I carry absolutely nothing of him.Death, Death, lost his flames to frost of breath! Pan’s words haunt me, chilling me to the bone. What great secret does Thanatos hold? And what does it all have to do with me? I should focus on Neo, on all his masks, peeling them back one by one. Our bond is the key. And yet, perhaps Thanatos, with his secrets, holds the true key toeverything.
The Gates part before him. Like the dividing of the Red Sea, only this is fathomless branches, trunks shifting, roots clawing at the mountain faces, so Thanatos may invade the doorway. Gasping, I clamber my hands to the back of his neck as he sweeps into their pathway. Once my fingers collide with his skin, pressing beyond his hair, pressing to something significant, I swing my face toward him, boring my eyes onto his, stupefied by what I’ve just unearthed.
“Thanatos…” I breathe against his mouth, tempted, too tempted. I can’t believe it’s real. It must be a deception. I remember that voice from the Tower, fromhisTower. But I also remember Pan’s revelation. I remember the sudden shift in Thanatos’s persona and the prickling of his frost up my spine to soothe my pain and panic as if…as if only he can truly gift me with Noralice—with truth and honor. He was the one who ultimately shared my trauma, that long night of a hundred bites. And now, he has conquered his own. Or at least a fraction of its power. Upon the back of his neck, beneath his silky black hair, I trace the ruined flesh, the scorched brand, recognizing the undercurrent of a mark that once existed. A mark of Lucifer. But no longer. Thanatos burned it off.
Despite how our eyes never stray from one another, Death reveals nothing. Death offers nothing.
We arrive at the Lake of Souls.
Persefoni roars, welcoming her son, and I smile as they bond upon Thanatos’ balcony. Tonight, Thanatos does not take me to his throne. No, hecreatesa new one. Of hundreds upon hundreds of crystalized roses and ice vines curling in elaborate, delicate, and skeletal patterns to seduce me, to tempt me. Skulls formed of translucent ice decorate the crest of the throne. Thanatos sets me down on the dais of ten crystal steps and bids me to ascend higher than his unworthy pedestal.
You damned devil, I huff through our soul bond, pinching my eyes upon him as an annoyed heat rises within me. I find it simpler to traverse into that spirit fabric of our soul-blood pathway when we are within his realm.
