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Everywhere I look, there are things, some just skeletons of men, some giants and monsters, ancient horrors that emerge from the soil, as far as the eye can see.

With clarifying dread, I know exactly what has happened.

Someone has raised the Old Gods.

And that someone is my mother.

Chapter 18

Hanna

The Uncle

The next day, Death and I sleep in a lot longer than planned. I’ve never been very good with jetlag, but I definitely didn’t expect it when traveling across dimensions or portals or whatever you would call travel between worlds.

When we finally do rouse ourselves, it’s nearly two p.m. Since we went to bed at eleven, we’ve had over fifteen hours of solid sleep. I suppose our bodies needed it—and who knows when our next good sleep will be.

I roll over and look at my husband.

How strange it is to think of him like that in this world.

But that’s what he is.

We were married down in the crypt, and I took on the crimson crown.

I am his, no matter why he thinks I should stay behind in this world.

He had some points, of course. It’s been a long time since I actually sat with my thoughts and examined what my hopes and dreams for this life were. Other than thinking about my father and his well-being, all my focus has been on survivingthe Underworld and my marriage to Tuoni. Everything else just seemed like a dream I once had, something I could ponder when things finally slowed down, and I had some time to think.

Now, I’m here in the Upper World, and I’m realizing that even though this was my home and always will be, I can’t let Tuoni go back without me. Perhaps it’s because I love him (though he’s still been careful to never say he loves me in return), or perhaps it’s because I know I’m not done. There’s a prophecy at stake, and I’m the daughter of a goddess—my story doesn’t end here.

Is it possible that deep down, I knew I was never meant for a normal life?

I mean, I know that’s what we all secretly think. We all think that maybe we really arethatspecial, different in a coveted way. We grow up believing we might be some sort of chosen one no one has discovered yet.

And yet…and yet…

Here I am.

Lying naked in a hotel bed in Helsinki next to the God of Death, who happens to be a king and my husband and the man I love.

Because, fuck, Idolove him.

With every fiber of my being.

Just watching him sleep here, in this Ikea-furnished, white-washed room so different from his black curtains and the obsidian walls of Shadow’s End, I realize I will follow him to whatever world he chooses. He has my heart, every damn bit of it.

I just hope that one day, I will have his.

In the end, that’s what Itrulywant.

His elusive love.

“You’re staring at me,” he says, his voice soft and rich with sleep, his eyes still closed.

“I like watching you sleep,” I admit. It’s very Edward Cullen of me.

A gentle smile forms on his full lips as he turns his head slightly, his eyes metallic in the dim afternoon light. “I slept like the dead,” he says. “That was intended without pun.”