“I don’t understand,” he whispered. “I thought—I thought you were just going to take my immortality.”
The woman smiled widely. “And how do you think we do that? Your immortality lives in that silver blood of yours. Once every drop is gone, your immortality will belong to us. This is how it’s done, death god. There is no other way.”
Evander was gasping for breath now, the panic rising in his chest with such strength that he thought he might faint.
A silver blade gleamed in the woman’s hand. It was slightly transparent, just like her body, but Evander had no doubt it could still cut his flesh. They had taken a drop of his blood before.
Now, they were going to takeallof it.
The soul drew closer to him.
Gods no. Gods no.
From within him, a voice that had long since been silenced screamed out in rage and terror.
I want to live!
Over and over the voice shrieked, bellowing into the endless void, the chasm that had become his soul.
I want to live. I want to live. I want to live.
The words brought fire and life into his very being when there had been nothing but despair and emptiness.
He needed life. More than he needed Mona, more than he needed Typhon…He needed to live.
Evander roared with fury, thrashing against his restraints. The earth moved underneath him as his ghostly wings spread wide. Something snapped, and suddenly he could move his left wrist.
The woman gasped and drew back, her eyes wide and fixed on his wings.
With his free hand, Evander tugged at the cord on his other hand, fingers clawing.
Live,he ordered himself.You must live, Evander.
Shimmering forms swarmed around him as the other souls closed in, no doubt to stop him from escaping. He bared his teeth, fury and desperation fueling him. His heart raced and his blood thrummed. Never before had he felt so alive.
“Stop!” the woman screeched, raising her hand. Evander snarled at her, but then he realized… she wasn’t speaking to him.
She was speaking to the souls.
At the sight of her raised fist, the other spirits froze,creating a rippling crowd of silver in front of Evander, like an ethereal mist.
The woman was still staring at Evander’s wings, her mouth open in horror and shock. “Where—Where did you get those?”
Evander only bared his teeth at her. He was not about to sit and answer questions when they were planning to bleed him. His other hand was free now, and he was frantically undoing the knots at his ankles. Soon he’d be free. Soon…
“Answer me!” the woman screamed. Her shrill voice pierced the air, ringing against Evander’s ears. The note of terror in her voice was what made him freeze.
He slowly looked up at her, his teeth still bared and his body still rigid. “They once belonged to the demon inside me.”
She uttered a hollow, trembling gasp. Evander stiffened, his eyes narrowing as he scrutinized the spirit. One hand was covering her mouth, and her shoulders were shaking.
“His name,” she sobbed. “Tell me this demon’s name. Please.”
Unease spread through Evander’s chest. The fire from before still raged, desperate for release. His blood thrummed with the need to destroy, to fight his way to survival. He couldn’t convince his mind or his body that the threat was gone.
But… something was off. Something had happened, and his muddled mind was struggling to keep up.
“Typhon,” he said at last. “The demon’s name was Typhon.”
