“Sephtis, Ican’t take it back. I warned you. I…” Wren took a step forward. “I’m so sorry. Do you want—” His fingers twitched, and the arrow glinted in the low light of the room. A spark of red, the pallor of a corpse, and the blazing green judgment in the eyes of the man who called out to a soul I’d accidentally awakened when I let Wren shoot me.
A soul I never should have had.
“No… don’t. Not right now.”
Reapers were born to be soulless, emotionless… to do a job. And now…
Now I could feeleverything.Most of all, I could feel the hate of the man standing across from me.
The hate of my soulmate.
Chapter 4
Sephtis
The first timeI truly realized the consequences of taking the Ardor into my body was two weeks after I’d left Caiden’s side. My mind had been stuck on his twin… on Cole. I’d been so busy silently following and watching him, seeing him teeter somewhere dangerously close to the edge of death himself as he planned his brother’s funeral, as hegrievedhim… that I didn’t do my job.
But the call eventually came for me, and it was too strong to resist. The man was standing over a small frame.
A young woman.
And I could feel the rage and smug satisfaction ripping through him. He’d killed her, and he wasn’t sorry about it. He was just sorry she’d managed to rip the knife he’d used from her side and stabbed him before she fell.
A final act of defiance.
The very reason he’d killed her to begin with…
And all I could see was her sweet, soft face. All I couldseewas the gentle potential of a soul snuffed out too soon.
I could feel her pain.
Her fear.
And I realized whatI’ddone. It wasn’t just Caiden I could feel—it was everything.
Everyone.
It hadn’t gone away.
Those emotions tore through me in a whirlwind of rage when I turned to the man who was panting heavily, his breath wet, his eyes wide… and let himseeme.
I knew what I looked like—pale skin and black veins, dark hair and eyes like liquid night. Ilookedlike Death.
His messenger.
His demand.
And all I had to do was touch the man, so I wasn’t sure why I leaned forward and took the knife from his hand…
I wasn’t sure why I glanced down at the dead woman’s body before I thrust the blade up and into the man’s sternum. The punched-out exhalation of his breath came in a burst of droplets of blood. He fell to his knees, and when I ripped the knife from his chest, I ripped his soul with it.
I didn’t bother to ferry him—I took a moment to see his wide, fearful eyes, and then cut my hand through the visage. The soul dispersed into a thousand tiny pieces, a million stars that would find their way to Death eventually by way of the hounds, to be shaped into something completely new. I drank down the lingering sensations of his fear and pain, and my entire bodytrembledwith the new emotions.
Emotions.
I was going to feel everything—every death. Every soul I called to the Lake.
Maybe this was why Reapers weren’t made to feel… because the weight of it would drive them to insanity… and I…
