Mal shrugged softly. ‘That doesn’t mean it hurts any less.’
A faint, wistful smile tugged at his lips. ‘I suppose you’re right.’
‘What was she like?’
His eyes brightened, warmed by some long-buried light. ‘Scary,’ he said, the corner of his mouth curving upwards, almost fond. ‘And stubborn. She never listened to me. You remind me of her a little.’
Mal felt her own lips twitch into a reluctant smile. ‘I’ll take that as a compliment.’
‘You should.’
She turned back towards the endless sprawl of forest, unwilling to meet the weight of that smile. It tugged at her heart in ways she did not care to name. ‘I still can’t awaken my witch powers,’ she admitted, frustration sharp in her tone. ‘I can’t keep wasting time. I need you to help me, to teach me to master my godlike abilities in case…’
‘In case what?’ he asked, his voice softer now, careful.
‘In case I can’t become the God-Killer.’
Thanatos nodded but turned his attention away, his expression pensive, as though weighing words he did not want to speak. When they came, they were hushed, hesitant. ‘Why do you want to be the God-Killer?’
‘To stop the gods.’
He sighed, the sound heavy as stone. ‘They say that to bearthe mantle of the God-Killer… you must surrender a part of yourself. That the power required is so immense it rots the mind, warps the soul. That you will no longer be who you were.’
Mal frowned and glanced down at her hands, trembling faintly, traitors to a fear she had never known until recently. ‘Is that why you’re so reluctant to teach me? Because you fear I’ll become… something else?’
Thanatos gave a slow, silent nod.
Mal bit her lip, feeling as though her world were splintering, each piece falling into a dark abyss she could not reach. She swallowed her fears, burying them deep in that hidden place within her where all her secrets slept, silent and suffocating.
‘It frightens me too,’ she confessed, her voice soft, almost breaking. ‘What I might become… what I might lose of myself. But what terrifies me more is something happening to those I love. If I hold the power to save them… why wouldn’t I use it? Wouldn’t you?’ She turned to him, her eyes luminous with desperate hope, as though he might finally understand, finally help her. ‘If you had the strength to protect those you love, wouldn’t you do anything to make it happen? Even if it meant destroying yourself in the process?’
‘Mm,’ Thanatos murmured, eyes dark and thoughtful. ‘But those I love… would they truly want to lose me?’
Her fragile hope cracked, splinter by splinter, as she turned back to the view beyond the window. He would not help her, she thought bitterly. She would return to her loved ones powerless, relying on nothing but steel and stubbornness, and she would fight for them anyway, because turning her back on them was never an option.
When Thanatos’ hand reached for hers, she almost jumped.The touch was so achingly gentle that she froze. Thanatos was rarely gentle; he was sharp edges and shadows. Yet with her, lately, he seemed to know softness.
‘I’ll help you,’ he whispered.
Mal’s eyes widened, narrowing soon after with suspicion. ‘Why? You’ve been reluctant from the beginning. Why now? Why so willing?’
He gave her a small, almost tender smile as he withdrew his hand.
‘Because I’d do anything to chase the sadness from your eyes, Melinoe,’ he said, his gaze fixed on the distant horizon rather than on her. ‘I want to see you smile… even if it’s only once.’
‘And you’re not afraid? Afraid of what I might become if I’m corrupted?’
‘I am,’ he admitted, finally meeting her eyes. Mal’s heart constricted painfully at the sight of him, so full of emotion, longing, and an unspoken fear that seemed to wound him as he said, ‘But if I don’t help you, and you go back without your powers… I fear that more. I fear something happening to you.’
‘Why do you care so much?’ she asked, the words quiet, almost trembling.
Thanatos looked away, lips curling into a scoff that did nothing to hide the tension in his jaw. ‘Silly question, woman.’
But as Mal turned from him, she saw his hand lift instinctively to the ring that hung from the chain at his neck, fingers curling tightly around it as though it were the only anchor holding him together.
…
‘When will you teach me to read your thoughts?’ Mal asked, hours later, as she followed him into the barren expanse beyondthe castle. The land stretched wide and colourless, a graveyard of dead grass and ashen soil. No wind stirred. No life dared breathe there, only a hollow stillness that clung to the air.
