I don’t mind. I understand how strange it must be sitting with someone they assumed was dead for a decade.
One by one, Angel introduces me to the council of elders, Warriorheads and elite warriors before stopping at a woman patiently waiting for her turn.
“It’s a blessing to have you among us, Princess Nevaeh. I’m head reaper, Vesta.”
Okay, now her dark cloak with the hoods resting on her shoulders makes more sense.
“Papa made you wear that?”
She chuckles, smoothing her hands down the sides of her robe. “As much as he loathes wearing one himself, he enjoys making fun of us in them more.”Of course he does.
The Kingdom of Death is the only one among Horsemen actively involved with the human realm. The other three pitch in when the fate sisters demand them to—whether to strip land from life or cause enough inner conflicts to shake the world.
Papa might beThe Grim Reaper,but even he can’t be everywhere at once. There’s a separate army of demons under him bestowed with the abilities of a reaper to help his daily workload. As long as a demon is willing, Papa doesn’t hesitate to recruit them. He avoids being in the human realm like a fish avoids being out of water.
The last man I have yet to meet pales, but instead of the shock I expected, he looks like he might combust from happiness. He seems happier than everyone else and is staring at me expectedly.Fuck.
I knew one of these days I would have to face someone from my past and look them in the eye when I say I don’t remember who they are. I don’t want to see how his happiness will turn to dust when he finds out that while he is struggling to hold back tears of joy, I’m struggling to remember him.
A warm hand engulfs mine under the table, and I realize I’ve stopped breathing to scan my brain to see if I remember him. Turning to my mate, I shake my head subtly. Anxo’s eyes fall shut, but his grip on my hand tightens to support me.
Within a moment, the crestfallen look on the warrior’s face is replaced with understanding, and I don’t have to guess why.
Angel and I have a deal. If I tell him I don’t remember something or someone, he will explain on my behalf, so I don’t have to be responsible for crushing their hopes. I know it’s selfish to put that on him, but I can’t, for the life of me, have people shedding tears because I don’t know who they are. The lack of empathy they will get in response will only hurt them more.
It’s better to start over. And the way this particular warrior holds himself back from tearing up and smothering me means he’s one of those people I won’t mind starting over with. My slight smile makes his whole demeanor light up, and I already feel better knowing he doesn’t feel betrayed by my broken mind.
“Nevaeh, this is Warriorhead Khatri, second in command to your father.” Angel introduced me, and now I’m sure that he has warned everyone about my need for space because not one person has even attempted a handshake.
Khatri looks to be in his mid-thirties with a perfectly trimmed beard and dark eyes that soften considerably when he’s looking at me.That look—it makes me question if I’ve seen him before.
“It’s good to have you back, Princess Nevaeh. My mate and I have been praying for your return for years.” His deep South Asian accent is strangely familiar but still not enough for me to place him.
It doesn’t matter though. I’m willing to start over.
“Thank you for everything.” We both know I’m grateful for more than just watching over my kingdom.
Khatri was here for Papa in his hard times, and his relief at my return tells me how much it hurt him to see Papa break in those times.
My guilt mountain is gifted with another heavy stone with that thought, and before I can roll down it, Angel laces our fingers together and brings our joined hands to rest on his thigh. It’s scary how easily this man turns my misery into a faded memory.
I’m having a moment of realization about how much I like being around my mate when Rick intervenes.
“The missing princess. Honestly, ma’am, nobody thought we could salvage you after a decade.”
Salvage?What am I? A lost earring?
“Well, I am here,warriorRick.” He meets my emphasis on warrior and the blatant disregard of his title with a visible tick in his jaw.
Doesn’t feel good being treated like you don’t matter, does it, asshole?
Whatever fire I start under his pants, Rick doesn’t seem so concerned about rearing it back and makes another attempt at hiding his disgusting words under the veil of politeness.
“If you don’t mind me asking, Miss Blackburn, have you given any thought to your role in the kingdom? I know it’s quite early, but I heard there’s an empty spot open on thekitchen services.”
“I would tread very carefully, warrior,” Seiji whispers, but I don’t think he wants Rick to stop judging by how entertained he is.
Seiji is watching Angel like a hawk, waiting for him to bash this idiot’s face in.Shame that’s not Angel’s style.
