I’d hoped for it, of course. After my sister had bonded with her Keres lover, I’d secretly dreamed of finding my own match. But I hadn’t expected it to happen like this, or so quickly.
The woman dragged in a wet breath. Her eyes opened, finding my face through the misty air above the water. In a heartbeat, she flinched, scrambling backward into the roots.
I reached out, my fingers brushing her pale cheek. Impossibly, her eyes went even wider. “You… You’re touching me.”
Was she afraid because of my strange nature? It seemed likely. Most people of the Korinos Wilds saw the monsters of my home as terrifying beasts.
But she didn’t turn me away. Instead, the desperate tension drained from her muscles, and she went completely limp. It was as if my touch had erased the panic that had kept her awake in the first place.
Mindful of her broken wrist, I gathered her out of the roots and pulled her against my chest. She felt impossibly small against my solid frame. A faint, rhythmic vibration beat against my breastplate—the desperate thud of her heart.
It was enough. It was more than I could have ever dreamed of.
I headed out of the lake, back onto the dock. Theron and Skaros took her from my arms, gently setting her on the flagstones while I pulled myself from the lake. Her absence ached, and the moment I was back on solid ground, I pulled her close again.
“A death-touched human,” Skaros rumbled, his scorpion tail flicking in confusion. “How did she cross the lake without Charon?”
“She crossed nothing.” I shifted her weight, and she shook against me, still restless. “I think the lake brought her.”
It must have. There was no other explanation.
“She needs Iaso,” Theron offered softly. “Whatever happened to her out there, a healer must look at that wrist. Even if Asphodelia welcomes her, she’s not well.”
The woman in my arms convulsed. A violent shudder ripped through her small frame. Her wet skin slapped against my chest as she twisted.
“No healers,”the lake hissed in my head.“Not for her, Son of Charon. Not for the woman who can kill the dead.”
I didn’t need to be told twice. In my heart, I’d already known it. “I’ll take care of her myself. We needn’t disturb Iaso.”
Theron had been watching me the entire time. He stared at the rigid, unyielding set of my bronze shoulders. He should have refused me. A death-touched bride, in such a condition? Theron was right. She needed the healing wing.
But if there was anyone who could understand my situation, it would be him. My Cerberus friend who’d have torn the entire city apart for his mate.
A heavy silence fell over the dock. The wind off the Acheron howled around us, but the three of us stood locked in a quiet, profound understanding.
Skaros broke the stillness. He glanced at the woman in my arms, then turned his back to me, facing the dark water.
“We found nothing but a minor disturbance in the water today,” he rumbled, his voice dropping into the low, gravelly register he used when drawing a line in the sand. “A current anomaly. Not worth reporting.”
Theron nodded. “Give yourself a few hours, brother,” he said, stepping aside to clear the path to the streets. “We'll take care of the death spheres in your stead. And… We never saw anything.”
“Thank you.”
The Moirae would know anyway. They knew and saw everything. Nothing even drew breath in Asphodelia if they didn’t wish it. But if I could have even the smallest delay, I’d take it.
She needed time, time before she went through the bride market. Before she had to face the laws of my people.
As for me… I needed to find answers. What mysteries did my mate hide? And why had the lake spoken of her in such terms?
I didn’t know, and I was almost afraid to find out.
The air in my quarters hummed. On the stone shelves sat countless heavy leather-bound books, all in my father’s careful penmanship. He’d written them to help me become a person, and it had worked. This room was my sanctuary, a place of silent thought.
Clusters of death crystals surrounded my bed, casting a soft silver-blue light over the Stygian iron slab. It was a specific arrangement my father had placed there to help me dream.
“If there’s anything I’ve learned throughout my long years, Aion,”he’d say,“it’s that everyone needs to dream.”
Today, it didn’t seem like I needed any books or any crystals to feel or to dream. Today, the silence was broken by the uneven breath of a living miracle.
