Her heart pounded. Fear she could handle. Fear kept you alive. But this awareness of him as something more than just a threat? This was the kind of distraction that got people killed.
His hand flexed at his side. Once. The only visible crack in that perfect control.
When he finally spoke, his voice was low. Rough. Her pulse jumped before her mind could process the words, something tightening low in her stomach.
"You're mine, thief."
The other Death Lords looked shocked. The officials whispered frantically. Even Lord Caelum had straightened with what looked like concern on his face.
"Brother," Caelum said slowly, his gentle voice strained. "Are you certain? She could find peace in gentler hands."
"She could find strength in mine," Lady Seraphina added, though her tone suggested she wasn't particularly invested in the argument. "The girl has a spine. I could work with that."
The Reaper ignored both of them. He kept studying Brynn's face.
"The choice is made," he said.
His voice held no room for argument. Just made it clear he'd kill anyone who tried to challenge his claim.
Well. That was either the best or worst thing that had ever happened to her.
Guards approached to lead her away. Different guards than the ones who'd brought them here, wearing armor marked with symbols that matched the darkness of his shadows.
Brynn caught fragments of whispered conversation from the officials in the higher seats.
"The Reaper has never claimed anyone before."
"He didn't even attend the last two ceremonies."
"Why would he start now?"
None of it sounded encouraging.
"Move," one of the guards commanded.
Brynn was led to where the five Death Lords stood waiting beside portals that had begun opening in the air. Each doorway showed a glimpse of the realm beyond. Caelum's portal revealed gardens where white flowers bloomed in eternal golden hour, while Seraphina's showed training grounds where warriors practiced under a blood-red sky.
The Reaper's portal was a rectangle of darkness. No glimpse of what lay beyond, no hint of the domain that awaited her. Just black that seemed to pull at the edges of her vision.
Perfect. Walk through the door marked "certain death" and hope for the best. Her life choices had always been questionable, but this might be a new low.
"Any last words?" Lord Caelum asked gently.
Brynn looked around the amphitheater one last time. At the officials who'd documented her fate, at the other Death Lords who'd found her unremarkable, at the guards who served laws older than memory.
Then she looked at The Reaper, who waited beside his portal. His black eyes met hers, and for just a second, she could have sworn she saw something shift in that lightless gaze.
Interest, maybe. Or curiosity about this mortal who'd looked Death in the eye and refused to blink.
"I'm harder to kill than I look," Brynn said.
Several of the officials exchanged glances at her boldness. Even Lord Vex looked mildly impressed.
But the Reaper's expression didn't change at all.
"We shall see," he said, and gestured toward the portal.
The crossing felt like being pulled through ice water while someone played discordant music inside her skull. Reality twisted around her, up and down, losing all meaning as she was dragged from one realm into another. The ceremonial chains around her wrists grew so cold they burned her skin, and the air she tried to breathe tasted of copper and endings.
