Page 30 of Reaper’s Curse

Oh gods. Help me, blessed death.

Chace isn’t okay. Something bad happened. Something Winter is afraid to tell me.

Frost slipped over my skin. “Just say it.”

“Mr. Aldine. I only have Chace’s word to go on.” He shook his head. “I have no proof of this myself.”

My hands fisted so tightly they stung. “Spit it out already.”

“I am sorry. There is no easy way to say this.” He reached up and molded his palm to the curve of my arm. “Mr. Aldine passed.”

“Died?” My voice sounded tiny. A fraction of myself. “As in dead and gone? Died while here in Veritas? Not turned into some kind of zombie like Earl?”

“Yes.” Winter’s brow pinched, a perplexed expression tugging at his face. “Good point, but yes. Chace said your elder died.”

The Killian said he’d stayed Aldine’s death summons. Allowed him to live. Did the Killian lie?

A tear that felt less like saltwater and more like an ice chip escaped the corner of my eye and slid along the length of my cheek.

I needed time to process—the information, the change, his death, my emotions.

My chest squeezed painfully tight, and I wasn’t sure I was breathing. I sucked in air but received no relief. My lungs became a depository of razors. Oxygen and warmth drained from all my systems.

A brittle, bone-aching chill assaulted my body.

“Raven?” Winter shook me softly then started rubbing my skin. “Holy gods. Raven?”

My fingers were freezing. Turning blue with Winter’s glacial magic. I yanked, tugging my hands free from his hold, but he recaptured them before I could pull away.

“Raven.” He leaned closer. “I thought my grandmother…”

Pulling my hands away once more, I shook my head, signaling him to halt with the questions.

“Please, Raven.” He reached for me again, and again I jerked back. “Let me help you.”

“Don’t.” I pressed a flat hand into the space between us. “I need to be alone for a spell.”

His fingers grazed the curve of my cheek, clearing away my tear. “You don’t need to be alone, Raven. You never need to be alone. I can be here for you. Be anything you need right now. Let me do that for you.”

“You’ve already done so much. You saved my life.” I slipped my hands under my thighs, hiding my bluing skin. “But right now, I want to be alone. Please grant me that.”

He shifted back, his gaze never leaving mine. For excruciatingly long moments, he scrutinized my face, my posture. Yet I held his gaze, wishing he would go already. And as if sensing and caving to my desire, he nodded and rose to his feet.

“Should you change your mind and decide you’d like a shoulder to lean on, simply let one of the guards know, and I shall return.” He spun and swept from the room like a ghostly wind, the only sound the soft click of the door lock.

I stared at the double glass doors leading to the outdoor space and the crackle of ice creeping across the glazed panes. The slightest hint of morning light had begun to cast shadows across the terrace beyond. And the crow, he waited there. For my responding message, the promised breakfast crumbs, or something else, I didn’t know, but it struck me as odd he had either remained or returned.

He would continue to wait, because now…in the light of Aldine’s demise, even more than before, I had to rethink my reply to Chace. Was the elder’s passing the reason Chace wanted to meet and talk in person?

That has to be the reason. Why else would he want to see me?

If Chace was now safe, I doubted he would harbor any need to assure me as such with visual confirmation. And he sure as hell didn’t relish spending time with me, so the requested meeting couldn’t be for any other reason than Aldine’s passing.

Still, I wanted to see him, confirm for myself with my own eyes that he was indeed alive and—mostly—unharmed.

But not just yet. Not until I mastered my emotions and magical infection. Because…the room was plummeting in temperature, the space becoming an icebox.

I glanced down at Chace’s message, slipped tight against my thigh. Pulling the parchment to my chest, I tipped onto my side against the bed and opened the gate to a flood of tears. Gave in to a long, hard, ugly cry and allowed frost to sweep over me.