I’m pretty sure you can’t bring back the dead with Creator power; otherwise, Leon would have brought back Cassandra. But since I have Reaper powers as well, maybe souls are a loophole?
Hades’ eyes soften. “I’m afraid not. Souls are beyond the scope of Creators, and while you may be a Reaper, you cannot heal the souls of the living.”
Disappointment has tears gathering at the corners of my eyes. “This all seems like an ‘after the war’ problem,” I choke out, wondering if I can make it to the door before this conversation continues.
“How long before the decay begins?” Sin asks. His tone is strained, and he takes my hand, likely sensing my desire to bolt.
If people could let me ignore my problems like an adult, that would be great.
“It already has,” Hades answers with a pointed look my way. “And the longer you wait, the more of Sin’ssoul will be required to ensure you’re no longer dangerously unstable.”
My hands fist at my sides from hearing yet another person suggest that Sin should shatter his soul. “What will happen if I don’t fix it?”
Hades pales, which is saying something, considering his skin tone is ‘translucent.’
“You’ll become as violent as the Forsaken spirits. But you’ll hold enough power to end us all.”
His eyes snap back to Sin’s. “Either fix her or put her down. Immediately.”
Chapter 50
Vivian’s Point of View
Rule fifty:The more absurd the comparison, the better the deflection.
Remember that time I went decades without going to therapy?
I miss those days.
Sin and I returned to the Otherworld in the early hours of the morning. He insisted on carrying me through the Underworld.
When I protested, he reminded me that he couldfeelmy exhaustion. Then, he had to go and whisper please, like it was hurting him.
Only moments after giving in and being surrounded by his warmth, I was lulled to sleep by the sway of his measured steps.
I barely woke when we made it back to our room, and Sin walked us into a dark shower, still holding meas he washed us. Once we were back in our bed, he pulled me against him and kissed my forehead before I fell back into a dreamless sleep.
That warm, cherished feeling is now long gone.
I hoped sleeping in would give me a pass to miss therapy, since we needed to brief the others. Of course, Sin must have thought of that, since he assured me that he already spoke to Morgana outside our room while I was out.
So, against my better judgment, I’m back in the sitting room that doubled as my gilded cage for the last two weeks.
Sin is leaning against the wall behind me, and I’m thinking he and Nymara might make good friends. They have so much in common. Both like to lean against walls, and both prefer to stay quiet unless they’re bossing me around.
Of course, I’m assuming Nymara is still alive, because that’s the only direction I’m letting my mind go – otherwise, I’ll crumble before I’m allowed.
As if summoned by my anxiety, pain slices through my chest, threading through every fragmented edge. Gritting my teeth, I commit even harder to ignoring the fact that I’m a ticking time bomb.
To make matters worse, sleeping on the problem didn’t help at all. Instead, I woke up to the feeling of cracks fissuring over the wells that contain my powers.
Even now, scorching heat bites at my fingertips, and I shove them under my thighs.
Nope.
Not happening.
Happy thoughts only.
