I never told them.
Not about the punishment.
Not about Death.
Not that I got slammed with consequences for their mess: the stolen souls, the imbalance, the wraith.
This shiny new body? Yeah, that’s Death’s little gift. Apparently I need a power-up to fight the damn wraith, and he knows it. But no one mentioned it would come with a set of new problems, did they? I sure as hell didn’t know.
Nathaniel doesn’t say a word. Doesn’t even ask what I mean.
But his silence says enough. He got it.
And before I can fill that silence, Cassian slams the brakes.
The ambulance lurches. The tires scream.
We’re thrown forward. Bottles rattle. Something skids across the floor. I grip the fabric of Nathaniel’s shirt, anchoring myself, breath caught in my throat.
Then—
Cassian turns in his seat, so slow I half expect his head to do a full exorcist spin. His mismatched eyes look about ten times more terrifying than they did a minute ago.
“Death himself?” he repeats, his voice low and incredulous.
I groan, dragging my head up just enough to glare at him, even though it feels like I’m trying to lift a cinder block. My body’s still heavy with whatever this new reality is.
“Yeah. Death. Capital D. My boss. Big on drama. Ringing any bells?”
Cassian just stares at me like I’ve sprouted a second head. So I keep going.
“Look, long story short? He wasn’t exactly thrilled with the chaos you three have been causing. Stolen souls, breaking balance, unleashing a murdery void-ghost? Turns out that’s not great for the afterlife,” I gesture weakly toward myself. “And since I was the unlucky idiot tangled in your mess, I got caught in the crossfire. Death decided to punish me.”
Talon snorts. “Punish? You came back from the dead looking hotter than before. That’s not punishment. That’s a reward.”
I scoff and try to get off Nathaniel—for real this time. It’s harder than I’d like to admit.
“Oh yeah, totally,” I mutter, sliding to the floor of the ambulance. “Best day ever. Nothing screams ‘reward’ like waking up naked next to a totaled car, the world glitching around you, and a body that can’t even hold shape half the time.”
As I sit up, my voice drops to a mutter. I look Talon in the eyes. “Maybe the wraith will reward you next. Crawl out of the void and give you a nice, wet, murdery kiss. Real affectionate.”
Talon hums like he’s considering it. “Tempting. But I think I’ll stick with the one who actually came back from the dead.”
Honestly? At least he’s taking the news semi-well.
Cassian, on the other hand...
His jaw clenches. I catch it from the corner of my eye, his whole body drawn tight, like he’s one wrong word from exploding. His face is unreadable, but his eyes burn dark and dangerous.
“Let me get this straight,” he says, voice sharp enough to cut. “You’re saying Death himself intervened. And instead of punishing you,actuallypunishing you, he gave you a new body?”
He says it like hewantedme punished more, whatever that means. Rude.
Still, I shift just enough to meet his eyes, my expression flat.
“Didn’t you hear me? It’s not a gift.”
He does not look convinced.
