The dark peels back.
The Reaper fades.
The raven’s gone.
And then—
I wake.
A scream sits in my throat like a knife.
My breath comes sharp and wrong.
I blink.
Only one eye opens.
The other—
Black. Nothing. Blinded. Burned.
My body flails.
I’m alive.
I’malive.
But Sabine isn’t.
Sabine is gone.
And I came back just in time to make her killer pay.
Istep out of the room and back into the hallway.
If Cassian, Nathaniel, and Talon had stumbled on any other Grim Reaper without a proper burial back in the day, they’d be completely screwed right now. No one else would be doing this for them. Not unless they were forced to.
And that’s the thing, isn’t it? They’re not forcing me anymore. Haven’t for a while. I’ve been helping them because Iwantto.
So where’s that gotten me?
I’m about to risk everything to protect a living soul.
Am I insane?
Yeah, probably.
Death never said a word about protecting humans. His instructions were clear: destroy the wraith, protect other Reapers. And I’ve already broken more rules than I can count to get on his bad side—bringing Cassian back, helping create the wraith, tossing out half the laws I used to treat like gospel. I got a slap on the wrist for all that. But this? This might be crossing the line again.
I’m a Grim Reaper.
I’m supposed to collect souls, not shield them from death.
And yeah, technically, if I hadn’t screwed up and created the wraith, I wouldn’tneedto protect a human from it now. But even more technically?
I don’t have to do this.
But guess what?
