Page 18 of Bride of Death

Ghost looks like he just woke up, his thick, dark hair tumbling in messy waves across his forehead. He’s barefoot. Shirtless—obviously. And… and in my home.

“Apparently, I’m saving you from burning down the entire fucking village,” he tells me, his arms folding over his chest. “Who leaves pancakes unattended on a stove?”

“Why do you keep talking about pancakes?” I blurt out.

“Why?” Both of his eyebrows rise as he steps back to gesture at my black stove. “That’swhy.”

“Oh.”Pip. Right. I shake my head. “He was just trying to make me breakfast again.” It comes out in a defensive mumble. Because Pip means well, but he just, um, he struggles.

Where is he?I wonder, looking around as Ghost repeats, “He?” There’s a hint of incredulity to his tone. “Hewho?”

I meet his gaze again. “Not that it’s any of your business, but Pip. And why are you here, again?” No wait, I have a better query. “Howare you here?”

The look Ghost gives me is filled with disbelief.

“I woke up to the stench of burning, then heard you scream like a fucking banshee. So I got out of bed to bang on your door with the goal of scaring off whoever or whatever made you shriek, as I prefer not to get violent this early in the evening. But then you opened the door and…” He once again gestures to my kitchen. “You’re welcome, by the way.”

I simply gape at him. “I didn’t call for help.”

He grunts and looks around. “Who ishe?” he demands, ignoring my words.

Granted, I ignored him as well.

Which I continue to do now as I say, “I still don’t get why you’re here. How did you hear me?” Maybe that’s a ridiculous question. He’s a fae. They all have unique gifts.

“Because my bedroom is right through that wall,” he says, pointing to the stove. “Not that it matters. Your scream definitely carries.”

I narrow my gaze. “Your bedroom?” I repeat, my forehead crinkling. “That’s impossible. Tank lives next door.”

He releases another snort. “Tank hasn’t been home for nearly a month.” Those golden eyes of his capture and hold mine. “I sent him on an all-expenses-paid holiday right after you moved in, and he thanked me by letting me crash at his place.”

My eyelashes flutter. “You…” I trail off, unsure of how to respond to that. “You’re living next door.” The words come out stilted. Hollow. Confused. “Why?”

“Because I’m your pet bodyguard, mystery.” He leans his athletic hip against the counter and folds his arms again. “I’m also apparently your new recruiter, too.”

“Recruiter?”

“That is indeed what I said,” he tells me before sighing and tipping his head backward to stretch out his neck. “Can you please explain the burnt pancakes now, mystery?”

“I don’t think I need to explain anything to you,” I reply. “You’re the one who informed me last night that I’m supposedly engaged. Now you say you’ve taken over my neighbor’s home because you’re my bodyguard-slash-recruiter. And you basically barged into my hut without an invitation.”

He slowly straightens his head and neck, his intense gaze landing directly on me. “I didn’tbargein, Sera. You opened the door, I saw the fire, and I walked in to put out the flames.”

I stare at him again. He’s not wrong, but he’s not correct either. I didn’t ask for his help. He just foisted it upon me.

Which I should probably be grateful for, as I had no idea how to put out that magical flame.

But I’m not about to tell him that. Not with everything else hanging between us.

“You’re not supposedly engaged either,” he adds. “There’s nothingsupposedabout it. You’re betrothed. And you’ve been betrothed for a very, very long time.”

I huff a laugh. “Oh yeah? To Death, right?”

He doesn’t share in my sarcastic amusement. Instead, he levels me with a serious look. “Yes. To theGodof Death.”

Everything inside me goes cold. “The God of Death?” I repeat in a barely audible whisper, certain—hoping—that I’ve heard him wrong.

“Yes,” he confirms. “Hades.”