“In all my centuries, I have to say, not many appear so disappointed by my presence.” He tilts his head in a curiosity that feels like a taunt. “Were you expecting someone else?”
I don’t reply, his words lodging uncomfortably beneath my ribs.
“You are so new,” he breathes, wistful and vaguely pitying. “So perhaps you don’t yet know that only a Darling can open thewards from the mainland.” Another step, one I allow as my heart skips a beat. “And since you and I are the only ones left, I can’t imagine who else you’d be waiting for.”
“H-how? How are you here?” The words stutter from my throat, even as I soothe my panic by running my fingers over the hilt of my gladius.
The Aeternalis’ green eyes glint with excitement as he tracks the motion. “There’s no need for weapons. We’re kin, after all.” His gaze sharpens with sudden interest. “Unless, of course, such violence speaks to your shadow?”
“I’ve heard stories of the way you treat yourkin,”I spit at him with a sneer, wrapping my fingers fully around the hilt and drawing the weapon. “Whatever tiny amount of blood we share doesn’t make us family.”
Rage flickers over his face, there, and just as quickly gone. He hums lightly. “The stories have grown restless without their teller, dear cousin. The blood we share makes us more than family. You and I…we are mirrored souls.”
The way his lips slide around the wordsoulsmakes me shiver, despite the nervous sweat pooling beneath my cloak. I don’t want to know what he means—have no interest in whatever twisted connection he’s imagined in his mind, nor his reference to the shadows I now feel writhing once again in my chest.
I plant my feet, eyes shifting to the grotesque wound in the Aeternalis’ chest. The slash runs from his throat to his groin, a few inches wide. It is brutal and messy, the edges jagged, the bone of his sternum glowing white against the red blood beneath. All his organs are visible through the slash, illuminated by the soft golden glow of his magic. The pool looks how mine feels, and I try to shove the thought away before I can examine it further.
Dwelling on our similarities will do nothing but drag me further into the spiral of shadows. Instead, I focus on the steadybeat of his heart. Even in the land of dreams, there is no way Pan should be alive with such a severe wound, let alone walking and talking. For an absurd moment, I wonder if he’s a ghost conjured by the island itself to torment me—just as it had done to Niko with the Indomnitus.
As if I’ve cast my thoughts aloud, the Aeternalis tips back his head and laughs. It is a beautiful sound, tinkling and jovial, but I learned long before my time in Letum that the most beautiful things are often the deadliest. He laughs more, and I hear the darkness that edges the gorgeous sound; like if I continue to listen, I’ll be trapped in its thrall for eternity.
“I am no ghost.” He takes another step closer, the movement of his body catlike as he runs his tongue slowly over his lower lip. “Though I would delight in haunting your dreams. I imagine they’re the only ones in the entire universe as deliciously lush as my own.”
Faster than I can track, he removes a small knife from his pocket, spinning it deftly over his fingers. I tense, readying my magic, but he doesn’t move to attack. He only watches me with a mischievous grin and swipes the blade over his own palm. Red blood pools in the lines of his hand, and he laughs again.
“See?” He gestures to the way the wound bleeds, and then, with another laugh, to the rhythmic pump of his heart. “I’m just as alive as you are.”
Alive. Not human. The distinction isn’t lost on me.
“Niko killed you,” I bite out. “How are you back? Death is final. Even for you.”
At Niko’s name, that rage flashes in the depths of his eyes, and for a moment, he appears entirely monstrous. Like the youthful skin has been stretched too far and the white teeth have rotted from his head; like the clear whites of his eyes have clouded with age, and his wry mouth has puckered and thinned.
I blink, and the image is gone, the Aeternalis’ face as ethereal as ever. Like it was a trick of the light, or my over active imagination.
“Death is a paltry power,” he says with disdain. “It is nothing to the magic that lives in your heart and mine.I am here, Willa Darling, becauseyoubrought me here.”
His words sink into the pit of my stomach like cold iron, his frank examination making my skin crawl.
“You pulled me from the endless depths of time, and I heeded your call. I know the loneliness of ruling for an eternity. Surrounded by those who will never understand your power nor your burden…by those who would hate you for the same thing they worship.”
Another step, and he’s in my space.
“I am the only one who understands the cost of your magic, Willa. Its depraved cadence sings to my own.”
The Aeternalis breathes in deeply, his eyes fluttering in demented pleasure as a shadow erupts from behind him. My mouth parts in horror and yet, I cannot tear my gaze away from the way it undulates. Though humanoid in shape, there is something distinctlynothuman. Primal and raw, an evil spawned in an ancient void.
“My shadow yearns for yours, Willa.” Pan leans toward me, curling his fingers in a beckoning movement. “You do not have to be alone in your power anymore.”
The back of my neck grows hot as his words ensnare the weakest parts of my soul—the parts shadowed in grief. The holes dug by my past; by Niko’s betrayal. A constant whisper that I will always be too selfish, too broken, to deserve anything good.
“You know nothing about me, Peter.”
The Aeternalis stills at my disrespect. He doesn’t like being called by his given name, reduced to a mere mortal instead of a mythical deity.
“That is where you’re wrong, littlest darling. I know you because Iamyou. A lonely orphan, betrayed by her own family. Never loved, never wanted.” He steps closer, the beauty of his face malevolently inhuman this close. “Isn’t that all you’ve ever desired, Willa? To be seen for who you truly are and stillchosen?”
I freeze at his words—at how similar they are to the ones I confessed to Niko all those months ago.
