The bond that Death forced on us not only let us into Dianna’s mind, but each other’s as well. Isaiah’s emotions ran like wildfire across mine. Nismera’s betrayal had hurt him, but he’d obscured it with something far more deadly. I saw the vibrant black and red Ig’Morruthen roil beneath his skin. He snapped his jaws, begging to be released and seek his retribution. Isaiah’s temper was far worse than my own when betrayed. He may be softer than I, kinder, but at times I feared he was more brutal.
“Well, regardless, we have each other.”
“That we do.”
He placed a hand on my shoulder but pulled back as if he’d been burned. “What the fuck?”
I turned to look at him. Shock and worry filled his expression, and I knew exactly what he’d felt. I shook my head and shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“You’re beyond freezing. Why?” Isaiah’s eyes were frantic, looking me up and down.
Cold? That was one word for it, but what I felt was beyond cold. We stood here on this vast snowy landscape, but the chill didn’t even touch my bones. I was afraid none would. My skin had not prickled, and I had not shivered when we’d arrived, but I had done my best to pretend the chill affected me. Perhaps when I’d died, Death had followed me back through the veil. Or maybe not himself, but something else that resided on the other side. All I knew was that it had wrapped itself around me, stealing all light and warmth.
“I don’t think you can truly die, reach Oblivion, and come back the same, Brother,” I said, my eyes once more turning towards the skyline.
“But I did, and I don’t feel like that,” Isaiah said.
“Did you truly die? I did. When Samkiel killed me on the Isle of Detremn, I was gone much longer than this last time. I don’t think it was the same.”
“Fuck,” Isaiah cursed, his eyes filled with frenetic worry. “It’s this stupid bond,” Isaiah sneered, waving his hand toward the small camp where Dianna and Samkiel had finally settled into sleep. “Once we figure out how to escape it, you’ll be okay. We just have to be dragged around by our fucking balls first.”
“I don’t think so,” I said calmly.
“What do you mean?” Isaiah folded his arms and glared at me, but I could hear the worry in his voice. “I know you want to save me, but you’re a fool if you think I’m just going to leave you behind for them to torture or kill. I don’t give a fuck how much we fight. Only I can kick your ass.”
I looked away, casting my eyes to the rolling, snow-shrouded landscape and capped mountains. I used to take such beauty for granted, but not anymore. Now I knew where I was headed, and it was back to that screaming pit of nothingness.
“I mean, I died, and not just death, but true death.” I sighed and met his gaze. “The power Samkiel wields is empty, dark, painful nothingness. It’s the absence of life, and even though Death pulled me from that void, I feel … different.”
Isaiah was quiet for a moment. The only sound was the wind twining through the trees in a comforting murmur. “Different, how?”
I rubbed the back of my neck, trying to put words to it. “I don’t feel as I should. Not like I used to, at least. It’s as if I am here, but not. I mean, I know I love her. I love you, and I hate our father. Those things seem to be constants embedded into my DNA, beyond life or death, but that is it.”
Meeting his eyes again, I let him see how serious I was, and his throat bobbed in recognition of the wound that could not be healed. I stretched my legs out and crossed my ankles, leaning back against the snow-covered bark of the tree behind me. “Honestly, I think the bond is the only thing keeping me here, and once it breaks …” I snapped my fingers. “I don’t think there will be a body left for them to torture. So yes, after this bond is gone. You run and never look back. Hide, change, but find something else, Isaiah.”
“No,” Isaiah said without hesitation, rubbing his brow. He always looked for another way. Isaiah spent months after we were locked in Yejedin, trying to find a way for us to escape. Even though it was pointless, he refused to give up, and I knew he would do everything he could for me now.
“After this is all over, you should have a family,” I said, looking toward the empty cave entrance where the beasts had gone to slumber.
“What?” Isaiah asked.
“I know I give you shit. It is basically my job, but you deserve better. Make a life with someone after this.” I continued to stare straight ahead. “This?” I waved toward myself and the camp behind us before dropping my hand. “Has been your whole life. I have been your whole life. You will die one day, as I have, and I don’t want you to have any regrets. So, leave and do something with your life besides war, besides death, and besides me. Find someone who will mourn at your grave.”
“Kaden …”
I glanced over at him, and this time, the love I felt for my little brother warmed what remained of my fractured, dark soul. “I am truly sorry for what happened and for what I said. It was my fault you were even in that damn field, my fault our grandfather found out. I was careless and reckless, and I will regret putting you in danger for as long as I live.”
“It wasn’t you,” Isaiah said, shaking his head.
My brows knitted together. “It was. I was careless when I changed, and someone caught me—”
“No.” He sighed. “You were right. I have always been careless when it came to love and wanting it. It’s why I get so mad when you jest about it. I think a part of me just longed to be needed.”
My brows furrowed. “What are you talking about?”
“Essa.”
My lip curled. “Essa? Your little celestial fling? That was eons ago.”
