Page 57 of Gods and Graves

THEA

“ I just don’t want you to be disappointed.” Krystian ruffles his hair, a frown marring his perfect lips.

“I won’t be,” I assure him as anticipation thrums through my veins.

I lick my lips, practically salivating at this point.

Rafe and Everett exchange amused looks before refocusing on me.

“You’re so cute sometimes,” Everett says with a rueful chuckle and a head shake.

“All the time.” Rafe’s grin broadens when I stick my tongue out at him.

He’s been doing that more often—smiling. It’s…magical to see, the way it completely transforms his face.

I’d like to think my presence in their lives brought about that change, but I don’t think it’s the only factor.

With Ares imprisoned, Aphrodite dead, and the gods in disarray, no one argued with us reopening the compound to volunteers willing to fight with us.

So far, we have over one hundred teams that have trained to protect the innocents from the supernatural world.

Fuck the gods and their bets.

Maybe, in time, we’ll be able to wake the other sleeping teams. There are dozens of them hidden away deep within the compound—a discovery that still makes me squeamish to this day. For now, this will have to do.

My guys still help when they can, but usually, they’re spending their time training the recruits.

Which means lots and lots of free time.

Surprisingly, Athena agreed to also teach at the makeshift academy we created in the ruins of the old compound. It makes sense that the Goddess of Wisdom will have a class on war strategies.

“Come on,” I whine, pouting. “I want it in my mouth.”

Zaid coughs to hide his laugh, a red flush on his cheeks.

“Fighting words, shortstack.” Krystian finally reaches into the popcorn bucket. “I’m going to throw it.”

“Ready.” I automatically open my mouth, waiting.

“You know, I have a better idea of what you can put in that sweet mouth of yours…” Rafe suggests with a dark smirk.

Without breaking eye contact with Krystian, I swat at my blood fae.

No one will ruin this moment for me.

“You ready?” Krystian arches an eyebrow.

“Ready,” I respond.

Or at least, I try to, but it’s kind of difficult with my mouth already open.

Krystian winds up dramatically and then tosses the buttery piece of popcorn at my mouth. I shift slightly in order to catch it and feel a deep sense of accomplishment when I do. Triumphantly, I raise both fists in the air.

Popcorn is amazing. Seriously, is this what I’ve been missing out on when I was imprisoned? Fuck that Goddess of Love and Beauty. Seriously, fuck her.

“So? What do you think?” Zaid queries, his eyes glimmering with something akin to adoration.

In lieu of a verbal answer, I moan obscenely, the noise eliciting growls from my four men.

I love popcorn. I do, but I love my men’s cocks more. I want nothing more than to drop to my knees, free their straining erections, and?—

A familiar tingle reverberates through me, and I inwardly curse Hades’s horrible timing. Cock block.

My scythe materializes in my hand. It’s strange to use this weapon after reaping souls with my dagger for so long, but I have to admit that I don’t hate it. The handle feels like an extension of myself.

Everett releases a guttural rumbling sound. “Hades?”

“Yup.” I pop the P.

A flicker of panic crosses Rafe’s face as he takes a step closer. “Right now?”

It’s been six months, and all of my men lose their shit whenever I get called away to reap a soul. I think they’re afraid that one of these days, I won’t return.

Fortunately, these missions only take a few minutes at a time, and they’ve become less and less frequent since we’re finally caught up on reaping souls. Usually, my “duties” as Hades’s official reaper is venturing into the Underworld for meetings with the King of the Dead.

I think this is just his excuse to spend time with me, though the grumpy bastard will never admit it.

“I love you all,” I tell my men as I feel myself fade away.

“We love you too,” they respond simultaneously.

And then I’m gone, the taste of death on my tongue and my scythe glimmering like molten moonlight in my hand.

There’s no pain, no insanity, no incessant voices screaming at me. Only…peace. Security. An innate knowledge that this is what I am meant to do.

Now invisible, I give my men a two-fingered salute that they can’t even see before allowing the tides of death to pull me away.

A tiny smile curls up my lips.

Another day, another soul.

A reaper’s job is never done.

I defied death, and then I became it.

And I wouldn’t have it any other way.