“Yes. Yes, I am,” I said in a voice filled with emotion.
“Good boy,” she said tenderly before caressing my hair and placing a soft kiss on my forehead.
She then turned her attention to my mate.
“Welcome to the family, Daughter,” she said with a rare maternal expression. “I know what insecurities still linger within you. You are not a monster, Eleni Stavros. Do not let doubt douse your fire. Let it burn, fierce and bright. You are what you were always meant to be. Flaunt it proudly.”
With this, Mother caressed her cheek briefly before turning and walking away. My chest constricted when she headed straight for Azrael. To my shock, she took his hand, and he leaned forward to give her a tender kiss on the lips. They didn’t say a word, and she simply vanished before he did the same.
Eleni rubbed her cheek where my mother had caressed it, her face still displaying the same wonder.
“By the gods, her touch is amazing. It’s like being touched by Life itself,” she whispered.
“Because it is,” Pharos said with a hint of amusement.
“What?” I asked.
“Mother weaves the threads of life. She literally imbues it into each of the paths that run between her fingers. There’s a reason she avoids direct physical contact, mainly skin to skin. Her touch is extremely addictive to most living creatures. Some people have quite literally lost their mind over it,” Pharos explained.
I gaped at him, floored that I should only discover this now. But it explained so much! It just confused me why she simply didn’t tell me. As needy and clingy as I could be, I wasn’t unreasonable. At least, it would have spared me from feeling rejected and unloved.
I eyed my brother, the seed of suspicion firmly taking root.
“You knew all along, didn’t you? That’s why you were telling me to embrace my divine light?” I asked, sounding a little accusatory.
“Of course, I did,” he replied mockingly. “Why do you think I sought to have a relationship with you once I was freed from Cornelius? I wanted to see you follow the right path. And you were straying so far from it, I was beginning to despair. But I had faith Mother would find a way to save you in spite of yourself.”
I snorted in self-derision before nodding slowly.
“You couldn’t embrace your light before, and now you’re a sweet little angel like Pharos,” Haroth said tauntingly.
I glared at him. “I’m not an Angel, and I’m certainly notsweet,” I said, putting as much disdain as I could muster in that last word.
He smirked, a provocative glimmer sparkling in his red eyes. “Those light wings say otherwise, little Angel.”
“Don’t you have some people to reap, you wretch?” I snarled, making both him and Pharos chuckle.
“Always. But I will have a lot more once the two of you finish your mission. So you might want to get back to it promptly, after your mate has rested a little. I love reaping a good villain,” he added with a shit-eating grin.
Although they were both Azrael’s sons, Haroth didn’t share our mother. Unlike Pharos, he wasn’t an Angel of Death but a Grim Reaper. His breed specialized in reaping people with questionable pasts, who committed many crimes of any nature, and who usually required an escort to the less savory regions of the afterlife. That didn’t stop them from also reaping the commonfolk, but that task was normally reserved for Angels of Death. The latter were a lot gentler and compassionate, easing the dying onto the next journey.
Where an Angel of Death couldn’t sever someone’s life thread until it had reached its end, Grims could kill peopleat will, before their time, or even drag it out past their time. Naturally, such behaviors could have unpleasant consequences for the Grim depending on the circumstances, but they had a lot more leeway and tended to be far more ruthless in executing their duties.
Like most Grims, Haroth usually presented himself in his skeletal form covered in a black robe. A thin layer of leathery skin covered part of his body, with his bones clearly visible underneath. It always confused me why they did so. Like his father, Haroth’s normal form was stunning. I could only assume he enjoyed the fear his skeletal appearance stirred in those ‘villains’ he was coming to take on their final journey.
Before I could question him about what he meant about the villain, Haroth redirected his attention to my mate.
“Welcome to the family, little sister. I have a feeling you and I will get along famously. I am a long-time fan of your work,” he said in a mysterious tone before vanishing.
I glared at the now vacant spot at the feet of the statue of Hecate where he had previously been standing. Pharos laughed and gave me a half mocking and half sympathetic look.
“Stop pouting. You know Haroth cannot help himself when it comes to needling others,” Pharos said teasingly.
“I know. He’s a massive jerk. Which is why I like him, I guess,” I grumbled.
My brother burst out laughing while Eleni snorted.
“I will never understand you, Lyall. But I’m glad you like him. For now, I can only spare you a few minutes to teach you something you’ve coveted for a long time before I have to go back to my duties,” Pharos said with a grin.
