Allegra nodded, though her focus drifted past Mal’s shoulder, her eyes brightening at whatever she saw there. Mal didn’t need to turn to know who approached; the way her chest constricted with sharp, unwanted jealousy was answer enough.
Thanatos’ hand came to rest on her shoulder, warm and grounding. She glanced up to find his face carved with worry.
‘What is it?’ she asked, already rising to her feet.
‘We need to speak,’ he whispered, low and urgent. Before she could protest, he took her hand in his and drew her towards the looming castle. He paused only long enough to incline his head respectfully to Allegra. ‘We will speak again later,’ he promised, before leading Mal away.
Mal’s eyes narrowed, irritation flashing like steel unsheathed. Yet the instant she caught Thanatos watching her, reading every subtle twist of her expression, she forced her features to soften and followed him wordlessly into the castle’s shadows.
They traversed the obsidian corridors, their silence echoing through halls hewn from volcanic rock, the air cool and heavywith the scent of ash and ancient magic. Up the blackened stone staircase they went, the glow of blue wyverian light casting ghostly ribbons across their faces, before weaving through another corridor draped in quiet.
Thanatos paused at her chamber door, opened it, and with an incline of his head bade her enter. Mal stepped inside and sank onto the edge of her bed, her eyes never leaving him as he paced with a restless energy uncharacteristic of death itself.
‘What is it?’ she pressed, her voice a low demand.
To her surprise, he closed the distance and knelt before her, lowering himself to meet her gaze. His hand settled lightly upon her knee. A simple touch, yet it burnt like an unspoken confession. She nearly pushed him away, but those fathomless dark eyes held her still, arrested her breath.
‘Something is stirring above,’ he said.
Her brow furrowed. ‘What does that mean?’
‘Death.’
‘I don’t understand.’
‘There is death unfolding.’
‘Death always unfolds, Thanatos.’
He inclined his head slightly. ‘Yes, it does. But this… this is an ocean of it.’
Mal’s eyes widened, a cold ripple threading through her veins. She shifted to rise, but his fingers tightened around her knee, anchoring her in place.
‘Melinoe… do not rush.’
‘I must go.’
‘You are not ready. You could be harmed.’
‘I don’t care.’
A sigh fell from him, deep and weighted. ‘You may not care. But I do.’
She brushed his hand aside and stood, only for him to rise aswell, placing himself firmly between her and the door.
‘Did you tell me this only to wound me?’ she demanded, voice sharpened with anger. ‘Is that it? To dangle mortal suffering before me and then forbid me to act?’
‘No. It’s because…’
‘Because what, Thanatos?’
His stare, dark as the space between stars, pinned her to the spot. Slowly, almost tenderly, he raised his hand and let his knuckles ghost along her jawline. A delicate, reverent touch that stole the breath from her lungs and left her soul trembling.
Then it was gone. He withdrew, mask snapping back into place, the mischief curling at the edge of his lips once more as if the moment had never existed.
‘I have come to help you,’ he said, his voice smooth as velvet and yet edged with something she could not quite name.
‘Have you?’ she asked, head tilting ever so slightly, unsure whether his words were truth or another of his games.
