Destined to the Reaper (The Shadow Realms #2)

Chapter 11

Kali

I stirred, gradually emerging from the most amazing rest. My entire body felt languid, my skin tingling in a delicious fashion. Even as memories of the terrible ordeal we’d just been through flooded back to the surface, I couldn’t feel the slightest pain or discomfort.

But I could feel a presence nearby observing me.

My eyes snapped open. I was lying in an amazingly comfortable bed, a thick duvet agreeably weighing me down. The first thing I saw was the insanely high ceilings with intricate crown molding. The pale stones of the walls gave me the impression of ancient Roman architecture.

I jerked my head to the left from whence that impression of being observed emanated, expecting to see Pharos. Instead, a dark figure sat on the windowsill of one of the massive windows adorning the walls of the immense bedroom.

A frightened gasp escaped me as I shot to a sitting position, instinctively backing away, ready to cast a defensive or offensive spell. Judging by the broadness of the shoulders, I presumed the intruder to be a male. But he was exactly how I had initially assumed Pharos looked like in person: a skeletal knight covered in a dark hooded robe. He was lazily spinning the long staff of his single-bladed scythe.

For half a beat, I wondered if it was one of Pharos’s alternate appearances. But a quick shift of my vision confirmed that Reaper did not possess the mesmerizing aura I had become so enthralled with. In a flash of lucidity, I also remembered Pharos wielding a pair of shorter scythes, one in each hand, connected by a bone chain. They’d been ghostly, not made of physical material like his. And when he joined them into a single staff, it had been double-bladed.

The stranger tilted his head to the side before rising to his feet. Despite his slow, non-threatening movements, I once more scrambled backwards, panicked.

“You can’t reap me! I didn’t die!” I blurted out.

Despite the absence of skin over his skeletal face, his features still moved in an uncanny fashion as his mouth stretched into a smile.

“You didn’t die… yet ,” he conceded.

“It is not my time!” I said forcefully as I jumped out of the bed on the opposite side from him. “Pharos healed me. He marked me so that no one else could reap me!”

A rumbling chuckle escaped him. He rested the base of his scythe on the darker stone floors and stared at me with an amused expression. The red glow of his eyes felt ominous.

“I am not here to reap you, little human,” he said mockingly.

I released a shuddering breath of relief. But that didn’t alleviate any of my concerns.

“Then why are you here watching me? Where’s Pharos? Who are you?”

He emitted that insufferable chuckle again before grabbing his staff with the other hand, slightly leaning it against his chest as he gave me an assessing once over.

“So many questions… My name is Haroth, and I am here to see both of you.”

“Both of us?! Why? What’s wrong?”

He didn’t answer right away, his eyes glowing as he studied me. That only freaked me out further.

“You have a beautiful soul, Kali Jenkins. I can see why my brother is so taken by you,” he pensively said at last.

“Your brother?!” I echoed, flabbergasted.

My cheeks burned with embarrassment when I caught myself eyeing him from head to toe. Granted, they were both Reapers and shared some skeletal traits. He didn’t appear to have much skin at all. Or rather, it seemed to be a very thin layer over an even thinner amount of muscle beneath. It wasn’t wrinkled or sunken in like a mummy, but it also wasn’t the normal proportion of a human, unlike Pharos.

His mouth stretched in that odd smile again, having guessed the thoughts coursing through my mind.

“Where is Pharos?” I asked, glancing around the immense and elegant room I had awakened in.

“He went to see his mother. He will return soon.”

“ His mother? Not yours , too?”

He shook his head and casually started walking around the room. I eyed him warily, although relieved that he didn’t try to approach me.

“We only share a father, hence why our appearances differ so much,” he added teasingly, while admiring an adorned vase on the large dresser between two of the tall windows.

“I was wondering about that,” I admitted sheepishly.

He peered at me over his shoulder and gave me that amused smirk again. “I noticed. For the difference isn’t so much that we have different mothers, but the fact that I’m a Grim Reaper whereas he’s an Angel of Death.”

“I suspected as much,” I said pensively. “But I’m not quite certain what the difference is between the two.”

He turned back to face me and casually leaned against the dresser. “I can kill at will, even if my target’s thread hasn’t technically reached its end, much like humans can. Obviously, such actions could have unpleasant repercussions for me if done so in a reckless and gratuitous fashion, just like murder is punished among your people. But angels like him are bound by a different covenant. They can only kill someone already doomed out of mercy, near their end of life, or in order to defend themselves or the restricted number of people that can fall under his protection.”

“Like his mate and offspring,” I replied.

He nodded. “It was wise of you to become his mate. But why have you not given him your soul?”

I instantly bristled at that. Crossing my arms over my chest, I narrowed my eyes at him. “Did Pharos send you to convince me?”

He snorted and shook his head. “Most certainly not. He doesn’t even know I’m here. But you haven’t answered my question.”

“Because that’s none of your business,” I retorted in a clipped tone. “And what’s with you folks and your obsession with appropriating other people’s souls? No one just hands over the very essence of who they are to some stranger.”

“Pharos is not a stranger,” Haroth replied in a much cooler voice. “Giving him your soul merely creates a unique and unbreakable bond between the two of you. You’ll remain in your body, still go about your life as usual, with your own free will. And on top of that, you will be nearly immortal.”

“But he could still choose to abuse that power. I barely know him. We just met a few days ago!” I exclaimed.

“And yet, he gave you his, did he not?” he countered. “Pharos had a lot more to lose than you do. You felt his power during the short time you hosted him. Had you so wished, you could have simply walked away without transferring him back into his own vessel. There would have been nothing he could have done to stop you.”

“I never would have done that!” I exclaimed, feeling offended. “Anyway, I’m sure he would have fought back.”

“There wouldn’t be much he could have done about it, had you gone that route. Unlike with Cornelius, Pharos willingly gave himself to you. That bond was even greater than the one forced upon him by the necromancer. You would have been more powerful than Cornelius ever was. And I’m sure the thought crossed your mind, did it not?” he challenged.

My cheeks heated at the memory of the jealous anger that had indeed surged within me for the briefest moment at the thought of letting him go. Sure, the immense power had been alluring. But it had been the wondrous feeling of his soul inside me, of being in perfect harmony that had been intoxicating. That , not his power, had been the real source of temptation.

“What person wouldn’t be tempted by such a gift?” I retorted defensively. “But it’s not because a thought popped into my head that I would be okay with acting on it. And clearly, I wasn’t.”

“You were not. However, most people would not only have considered it, but also acted on it. Why do you think his mother left him trapped for so long? All the people who would have wanted to go after Cornelius either didn’t have the right skill to see the mission through or the moral fortitude not to become the new prison for my brother so that they could appropriate his powers. She searched long and hard for you.”

“What? His mother searched for…? By the Gods, who is his mother?” I whispered, shocked by what I guessed his answer would be.

“The Weaver, of course,” he replied, amused.

Stunned, I let myself drop at the edge of the bed, my mind racing as I replayed my meeting with her in my head.

“She didn’t search for me,” I argued feebly. “I went to her looking for help.”

Haroth snorted. “You went to her because she made sure you would. In all these years, you never once thought of approaching the Weaver, until recently, am I right? Didn’t you find it strange how everywhere you went, random people would suddenly mention the topic of the Weaver within earshot of you? Did that not plant the seed that set you on the path to seek her?”

My jaw dropped. He was correct. Over the past three months, I’d started hearing a lot about the Weaver, and how she could help solve the most improbable challenges. It even haunted my dreams with growing urgency over the past few weeks, only relenting once I set my journey here in motion.

“But why? Why me? Surely, I couldn’t be the only person with the ability and morality to see this through?” I asked, floored.

“Because she recognized you as his soulmate. She knew you could be trusted with his soul, and that in turn, you would be able to trust him with yours, even in such a short time.”

I instantly felt myself closing off again, which irritated him.

“Look, I believe you have the best of intentions, but I have no desire to give my soul away to anyone, especially after what happened to Jasper. That’s the only reason I got involved in this entire mess to begin with. I never want to put myself in a position where I could be this helpless. I genuinely care about Pharos. From what little I’ve learned of him, I could see a long- term future with him, if he wishes for one with me. But I need time to get to know him.”

“My dear Kali, you already know my brother better than anyone else on any plane of existence, even more than Cornelius who hosted him for the past five hundred years.”

I blinked, completely taken aback by that comment.

Haroth gave me an indulgent smile. “You shared with him a more intimate bond than most beings ever will. The whole time he was Cornelius’s prisoner, my brother shielded himself as much as possible from his corruption. But today, you held his soul within you. As he freely gave himself to you, you felt and shared everything that he is. Did any of it make you cringe? Did any part of him set your senses on high alert and scream danger or deception to you?”

I froze. No, holding Pharos inside me had been like being filled by the divine lights of the Gods themselves. It had been blissful, glorious, the closest thing to feeling whole I had ever felt in my life. I didn’t speak, but the expression on his face told me that my own revealed the thoughts crossing my mind.

“You are a fledgling Soul Mage. Granted, your powers are on the weaker side, but they are strong enough for you to see when a soul is slimy or shady. Has a soul ever made you feel happier or more fulfilled than his?”

I shook my head and hugged my waist, more troubled by his words than I would ever admit.

“Exactly, and that’s because you are soulmates. Pharos felt the same when he was with you. That’s why he loves you, and why he deliberately broke the covenant to try and protect you.”

“Why do you care so much?” I suddenly asked, baffled by it all. “Yes, I’ll admit that I absolutely loved the feel of his soul for the brief moment I held him. It does move me deeply that he trusted me enough to do this. I’m not sure that I will ever want to part with mine. But we have the rest of our lives to decide on that. Pharos is free. Once we’ve taken care of Cornelius—”

“Pharos is not free yet,” Haroth countered forcefully.

“What?!” I exclaimed, my stomach knotting with an automatic sense of doom.

To my surprise, Haroth thrust his scythe towards me, not in a menacing fashion, but angled in a way to show me the base of the blade, right below where it attached to the staff.

“Notice anything different than my brother’s scythe?” he asked.

I frowned and licked my lips nervously before answering as I searched my memory. “Yours is solid whereas his was ethereal. He also had two blades connected by a bone chain. But I’m assuming it’s the difference between a Grim Reaper and an Angel of Death?”

He shook his head. “A ghost scythe is the weaker, temporary version. If you see a Reaper using one, it’s because he no longer has his real weapon. My brother’s scythe is currently in the necromancer’s possession.”

“No!” I breathed out, horrified.

“Yes. And without it, Pharos is incomplete,” Haroth said in a somber tone before pointing at what I first assumed to be bone-shaped decorations at the base of the blade. “This is my spinal vertebrae. To be more specific, every Reaper grows a couple of extra cervical vertebrae that naturally come off once we reach maturity. We use them to forge our scythe. It is how Cornelius was able to trap Pharos.”

“By stealing his scythe?!” I exclaimed.

He nodded. “As part of the binding ritual, yes.”

I jumped to my feet, shock and denial swelling through me. “Does that mean that he can bind him again since he still has his scythe?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying, and what Cornelius intends to do.”

“Like hell he will!” I hissed, my hands fisting with anger. “We are going to kill him anyway to make him pay and to free my brother.”

“You cannot help him as a mortal,” Haroth said with a finality that took my breath away.

“As his mate—his bride as he calls me—”

“You will die,” the Grim Reaper interrupted sharply. “You have two choices, stay behind or bond with him. I can see the threads of life. There is no question that you will die if you help him confront Cornelius without having given him your soul.”

I shuddered and hugged my waist, my eyes flicking from side to side as I assessed his words.

“And what of Pharos? What does his thread look like? Do Reapers even have one?” I asked, still struggling to come to terms with his words.

“He will likely die,” Haroth said in a factual manner.

“What?! How?”

“If Cornelius didn’t have his scythe, Pharos would easily crush him. But without it, and the other rituals the necromancer is plotting, it will be extremely challenging for him, and nearly impossible on his own.”

“You have your scythe. Can’t you help him?” I asked, my voice pleading.

“Unfortunately, I cannot,” he said in an apologetic tone.

I recoiled, anger instantly surging within me. “Why the hell not?! And don’t give me that covenant nonsense. Of your own admission, you’re a Grim Reaper, not an Angel of Death, which means you can kill at will. Plus Pharos is your blood brother. What greater bond to justify helping him?”

“Your statements are correct, but your interpretation is not. You will recall that I said that Grims can kill at will, but there is a cost like when a human commits a murder. Gods, Ancients, and most demigods like me are not allowed to interfere in the affairs of mortals. We can only step in if the outcome of an action performed by a mortal threatens the balance.”

“But there is a direct threat against your brother! How is that the affairs of mortals?” I argued, baffled.

“Because the entire situation was created by a human seeking to elevate himself. Throughout your history, practitioners of the dark arts have devised clever ways to harness the powers of the netherworld or enslave beings from beyond the Veil for their own benefit. As upset as this makes us, we never interfere, as it is part of the path the mortals have chosen for themselves. It is unfortunate for those who got trapped, like my brother, but it is part of their own journey to fight their way back out of it.”

“Humans screw over demigods, angels, and demons, and a lot of you just sit back beating your chests and sending thoughts and prayers?!” I snapped angrily.

“While I wouldn’t have quite put it that way, that description is fairly accurate minus the beating our chest part,” he replied in a slightly mocking fashion before sobering. “We can help tip the scale, like I’m doing right now by trying to nudge you into assisting him. But I cannot interfere directly.”

“If that’s true, why didn’t Pharos tell me about any of this?” I challenged.

“First, probably because he didn’t have a chance to do so, thanks to the impromptu trip Cornelius took them on. Second, because he probably wanted to see if you both would even make it out of this first mission in one piece. And last, but not least, because he’s finding out just now from his mother about the diabolical plan the necromancer has in store for him.”

I opened my mouth to ask a question, but a ripple in the Veil stopped me. I jerked my head to the right, towards the large doors leading to a private terrace.

“Speaking of the little Angel…” Haroth said teasingly.

He made his way towards the patio doors. They parted open before him in response to a flick of his hand. Only then did I hear the flapping sound of wings. I instinctively hastened after him. I no sooner emerged on the impressively large balcony than Pharos entered my line of sight, flying from another balcony located near the main entrance.

The look of panic on his handsome face upon seeing his brother knotted my insides. Had Haroth lied to me? Was he in fact an enemy? I perceived no deception from him, and his words had all been aimed at benefiting Pharos.

But my man diving and landing in front of me in a protective stance put an end to my musings.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Pharos demanded angrily at his brother, his wings spread as a protective wall to shield me from him.

“Peace, Brother,” Haroth said in that same insufferable mocking tone.

“Her time is not now!” Pharos continued in the same harsh tone, seeming oblivious to the Grim Reaper’s comment. “I’ve seen her thread. And I marked her.”

Hoisting myself on my tippy toes, I stretched my neck to peer at his brother over the broad span of my man’s black wings. He had that smug and amused look I was already starting to grow used to.

“I said peace, Pharos. I didn’t come here to reap your mate, but to warn the both of you. Except Myress informed me that you spoke with the Weaver.”

“I have,” Pharos replied stiffly, anger and tension bleeding out of him.

“So you understand what’s coming?” Haroth insisted, all amusement fading from his voice.

“Yes, I do. In two days, Cornelius will die, whether by my hand or someone else’s,” he replied.

With all signs of potential danger lifted, I gently touched Pharos’s left wing as I started circling around it. He glanced at me over his shoulder before folding his wings and drawing me against him. I went willingly and leaned into him.

Haroth’s gaze flicked towards me. It lingered for a moment, his expression unreadable before he returned his attention to his brother.

“That’s correct. Cornelius will die, even if that means you must die, too.”

“What?!” I exclaimed.

Pharos flinched but didn’t argue. Seeing him respond with a stiff nod freaked me out.

“Why would you have to die, too?” I asked, worry making my voice pitch higher.

“Cornelius threatens the balance,” Pharos replied in a tired voice. “His crazy plans jeopardize the world order, which cannot be allowed. In two days, he will perform a ritual to bind me permanently as well as another demigod. If he succeeds, he will become an unstoppable menace.”

“A menace that only my brothers and I, our father, the Gods and the Ancients would be able to stop,” Haroth said. “The only way to do that will be to kill Cornelius. But if he manages to reclaim Pharos, then we will have to kill him as well in the process.”

“No!” I exclaimed, jerking my head in turn between the two males in disbelief. “Surely we can free him again first, like I just did!”

I shook my head. “No, my bride. This time would be different. My mother explained to me what his plans are. If he succeeds, I will cease to exist as an individual. I will become an intrinsic part of him—or rather my powers will. Killing him—and therefore what’s left of me—will be the only option. I just never thought you would be the executioner,” Pharos added, glancing at his brother.

“A few of us will be there to intervene if needed. Believe me, we all pray you will prevail. We have waited a long time, allowed atrocities we normally never would have out of love for you. But this is going too far,” Haroth said apologetically.

“I understand, and I truly appreciate it,” Pharos said with genuine gratitude.

“But why don’t you just stop him now?” I argued, still struggling to comprehend the subtleties of that stupid covenant. “You already know he needs to be put down in two days. Why not just take him out now instead of allowing Pharos to get in harm’s way?”

“Because the crime that warrants his execution has not been committed yet. You cannot punish someone for their thoughts or aspirations. There is still a path where Cornelius sees reason. It is extremely dim and unlikely, but so long as it exists, it must be given a chance.”

I shook my head, disgusted and frustrated. Sure, I understood his logic but totally disagreed with it. We all knew Cornelius would stop at nothing to satisfy his lust for power.

“Settle it, my brother,” Haroth said firmly. “Please don’t make us do this.”

“I have every reason not to fail,” Pharos said calmly, before casting a meaningful glance my way.

That wrecked me. I gave him a sad smile that he returned, my chest constricting from the strength of the emotions I felt for this male I’d only met a few days ago.

He turned back to look at Haroth with a serious expression. “However, should I fall, Kali’s brother—”

“Will be handled,” Haroth interrupted in a way that sounded like a pledge. “He has suffered enough for his foolishness. Severing his thread will not affect the balance.”

Tears pricked my eyes as I gazed at the Grim Reaper. “Thank you,” I said with a shaky voice.

“Yes, Brother, thank you,” Pharos echoed.

“There’s no need to thank me. But if you insist, you can do so by prevailing. You can do it, but you will need her .” He turned towards me, his eyes glowing with great intensity. “Do not fail him, Kali… or yourself.”

“Haroth!” Pharos said in a warning tone.

“Farewell, you two. Do not waste the next couple of days,” Haroth said, ignoring his brother’s warning.

The space around him blurred as he opened a doorway through the Veil. He stepped forward and vanished from view. The blurring faded, and I turned my gaze towards Pharos, still shaken by this encounter.

“How are you faring?” he asked, studying my features.

“I’m fine,” I said in a slightly distracted tone. “Actually, I feel great. Whatever magic you used to heal me is amazing. But I’m more concerned about this thing with Cornelius. Did you know about this?”

“What exactly did my brother tell you?”

Although annoyed that he didn’t immediately answer my question, I answered his by giving him a quick summary of our discussion. Pharos pinched his lips, visibly displeased by some of the things Haroth told me.

“I didn’t know about Cornelius’s master plan. I knew he would want to get me back and intended to tell you after we had completed the first mission. I just wish my brother wouldn’t have interfered the way he did.”

“Why not?” I asked, feeling somewhat offended. “I needed to know this. How am I to make an enlightened decision about how to manage the situation if I don’t have the full picture?”

“I know. Sadly, I have this insane urge to protect you. I’m damned if I do and damned if I don’t. You only have two days to decide. It feels like an unfair amount of pressure. You cannot come without giving me your soul. If you do, we are both guaranteed to die. So how do I tell you that without you thinking that I’m trying to coerce you into giving in to me?”

A horrible thought suddenly hit me as he spoke those words.

“Is that why you’ve been asking for my soul this whole time? Because you can’t succeed without owning me?”

I felt guilty as soon as I blurted out those words. Seeing him recoil and a hurt expression descending over his features only heightened my guilt.

“No, Kali. Long before I even knew you would be my salvation, I wanted you. I’ve hungered for your soul from the very first time I saw you. You were standing by the entrance of Cornelius’s mansion with your brother. The whole time he was making his case about why Cornelius should take you both as apprentices, I was just transfixed by you. When I gave you my soul in the crypt, it was like being hugged by the Gods themselves. For the first time since this whole nightmare began, I actually wanted to be fully owned by someone. I could have remained a part of you forever.”

My throat constricted, and I slipped my arms around his waist. He drew me against him and wrapped his wings around me.

“I have seen and felt your soul, Kali. We were one, in perfect unison. So long as I draw breath, I can never want anyone else more than I want you.”

“I felt you, too, Pharos. It was… perfect harmony. I also remember thinking it was like the light of the Gods had filled me.”

“It’s because we are soulmates, my bride.”

“I think you’re right. I think we are soulmates,” I said, the truth of that statement settling deeply in my heart.

Pharos leaned forward and claimed my lips in a kiss filled with such tenderness I felt myself melting from the inside out. My hands glided up his broad chest, over his shoulders, and sank into the soft locks of his black hair streaked with silver.

He immediately deepened the kiss, the flame of passion sparking low in my belly in response. He picked me up, and I wrapped my legs around his waist, our tongues still mingling as he carried me back inside my room.