Death is easy.
There is no pain in death, as there is in life—that is how I know I’ve died.
The burning of my nerves, the constant scrape of my bones, the tearing of my skin. All of it is gone.
When I was here before, I’d been at peace believing I’d given Willa what she wanted.
There is no peace now, becauseIam what Willa needs.
I thrash against the darkness; I gnash my teeth and dig my claws against it, determined to fight my way back to her just as I promised. There is no world, no eternity, where we are not together. I will crawl back to her until my knees are bloodied—until my soul gives out. I will find my way through the endless sprawl of time, even if I have to burn through the entire universe.
I will bend death to my command, just as I always have. King of Carrion.
Like I’ve willed it into existence, a small rhythm flutters near my chest. Softly, at first. Then, stronger—a heartbeat.
Not mine, buthers.
I would recognize it anywhere, a cadence more poignant than any song in any world. And if I can feel the pulse of Willa for eternity, perhaps death isn’t so terrible after all.
“Niko.”
My name in her rasping voice wakes my dead heart. Or maybe I simply dream the tears springing to my eyes; dream of the warmth seeping through the ice I’m encased in; dream of the scent of her hair drifting over me.
Do the dead dream as vibrantly as the living?
When I open my eyes to find Willa’s radiant face hovering over me, I realize with certainty death has not come for me. For though they may dream, the dead do not feel as I do now:
Like the universe begins and ends at the touch of her body against mine. Like the synchronous beat of our hearts is enough to power the stars themselves.
I wrap her in my arms, listening to the melody of her heartbeat.
And then the tears come, the sobs full-bodied and consuming. Because there is no pain when I hold her.
My muscles feel strong; there is no ache in my joints. My lungs expand in my chest, and my ribs don’t feel bruised. My death threads through the air in dark spirals above us, and I stare up at it in vague wonder because though I can feel its power, it does not pull at my heart or slice through my skin.
For the first time in three centuries, my death does notneed.
Willa runs her hands frantically over my body, her panicked gaze searching mine like she’s terrified I’ll collapse at any moment. “How are you feeling?”she asks, her voice tight with worry.
“Willa.” I say her name like a breath of air. Like a prayer of the most sacred divine. Just the shape of it on my tongue is comforting, and the last of my disquiet slips away. For we are anchored to a land of dreams and death, where even the wildest imaginings have the possibility of coming true. And she—she is mine.
“How is your pain, Niko?” Willa demands, her fear for me bubbling into irritation.
I cock a grin. “Pain…” The word feels foreign on my tongue, and her eyes widen in alarm, like she believes I’ve lost my mind. “There is no pain when you are near, Darling.”
I tell her the same words I had a year ago, back when they’d been a wish, instead of a truth. In all my years of suffering, even in my wildest desperation—I was never able to dream of the relief I feel now. Never able to conceive the weightless, airy feel of it, nor the newfound energy pulsing through me in the absence of it.
I climb to my feet, pulling Willa with me. I wrap my body around hers, burying my face in her hair and breathing as deeply as I please with no rattle in my lungs.
“How are you?” I whisper into the juncture of her throat, before pulling back to cradle her face. I search her gaze, waiting for the rise of the malignant void—but I find only Willa. No shadows. No emptiness. Just her.
And I want to fall to my knees, both as king and as a man, in gratitude.
“I feel like myself again. I feel…” she pauses, searching for the right word. “…whole.” Her eyes shine with her own tears, as she brushes mine away. “Thank you, Niko. Thank you for—"
I kiss her, sweeping the words away with my tongue. We have both sacrificed so much, and in each, we’ve been given so much more. She is the first dream of my dead soul, and as her tears mingle with mine, the light of it blooms in my dark heart.
“Willa…” I whisper, her name nearly lost as I glance around the heart of the island.
