Page 82 of His Eternal Claim

Rack the slide as metal snaps clean through the chaos.

“Keep the perimeter clear, Kyle. And find Selene.”

I straighten my coat and walk toward the flames. Invisible among screaming guests spilling into the street.

Kyle’s voice crackles in my ear. “And if I see the Mother-in-law?”

Something dark pulls at my mouth.

I step over shattered glass, watching the burning third floor. “Leave her for me.” Rain hits my face. Fire reflects gold against the black pavement.

“I have a ledger to scrub.”

Chapter 27

Hollow

THE REQUIEM | Past

There is something humiliating about realizing your life has been reduced to two choices.

It’s neither good nor bad, nor right and wrong. Just survival and suffering. And sometimes they are the same thing.

I stand in the middle of the living room of the house Zagreus proudly told me he bought as a wedding gift.

A wedding gift.

The irony is almost enough to make me laugh.

The house is beautiful. It’s on a cliff, with a view of the sea, the skies, and the horizon. It’s just like I once told him. Fairytale and dreamy. Except for the man standing in front of me.

The ceiling is high. The windows stretch from floor to ceiling. Fresh flowers decorate every corner. Jasmine.

At least they used to be my favorite. Now they remind me of funerals. Everything reminds me of funerals.

My Father is dead.

The thought arrives with the same brutality every single time, as if my mind refuses to accept it and insists on grieving him all over again.

My Father is dead.

The church burned.

And I am standing here in a white wedding dress, and it’s a mockery. White is supposed to symbolize purity, new beginnings, and hope. But this dress feels more like a surrender flag.

Though it’s lace and silk. Finest fabric.

Across from me stands Zagreus. Dressed entirely in black.

The colour suits him. It has always made him handsome. Because black is the colour of mourning.

And I have been mourning him for weeks. The man I loved is gone. Maybe he never existed at all. Maybe I invented him. Maybe I loved a version of him that was never real.

My gaze drifts toward the priest. The terror in his eyes is almost comical. If I didn’t feel so hollow inside, I might have laughed. He looks less like a priest and more like a hostage being forced to perform his own execution.

Considering the armed guards surrounding him, he probably isn’t entirely wrong.

Several of Zagreus’s men stand around the room. The air in the room is closer to a standoff than a wedding.