Page 14 of Love and Death (Tempting the Fates #4)

And yet, either way, my life will be forfeit.

“What if we were both to reject the bond? Surely even fate could not force us to be together if neither of us wishes to be.”

“Cerberus has already marked you. He could not have done so if some part of him, however small, did not already wish to claim the bond between you.”

“So, that’s it?”

“As far as I know, yes.”

The air around me presses in, threatening to suffocate me as I struggle to grasp the impossible choice that lies before me.

I never asked for any of this. I never wanted any of this. And yet, here I am, trapped in a fate worse than death itself. A fate that I cannot seem to escape no matter how hard I try.

Attempting to calm my racing heart and quell the panic rising within me, I force myself to take a few deep breaths.

“I know it may not feel like it, but there is still time. You don’t need to decide your path forward yet,” Florence says, as if reading my mind. “Come, let me finish dressing you before Cerberus returns.”

Helping me up, she leads me over to the stool and begins threading my hair into a series of intricate braids, the silence stretching between us weighty in its uncertainty over what’s to come.

I’m still lost in thought when Florence finishes the final touches on my hair, barely registering when she leaves the room to return only a few seconds later with what must be the silk lengths of a dress draped over her arm in the same midnight blue I’ve grown accustomed to wearing here.

Numbly, I rise to accept it from her.

“Wait,” Florence says, laying a gentle hand on my arm. “I will help you into it, but you must put these on first.”

Hanging the dark silk on a crevice in the stone that I hadn’t noticed before, she produces several structured pieces of the same midnight hue as the dress and holds them out to me.

“Undergarments,” she clarifies when I give her a curious look, “from Eros’ palace. Don’t worry, they’re more flexible than they appear.”

I’m not sure what surprises me more, the fact that she thought to bring them with her or that they match Hades’ chosen color for me so perfectly. Though, I suppose everyone in Aglaia must be fully aware of his preferred tastes by now.

I turn them over in my hand. They look more like armor than underwear, all sharp lines and boned seams that seem entirely at odds with the flowing silk of the dress.

Still, I do as I’m told, slipping first into a thin, tight-fitting chemise, then allowing Florence to fasten the stiff corset around my ribs and hips. She laces it with quick, practiced fingers, each tug pulling me more upright, and stopping just before it would start to become uncomfortable.

I find the structure of it oddly comforting, and I cannot help but admire the thousands upon thousands of delicate stitches that make it shimmer like subtle starlight when I move.

It’s almost sad to see it covered by the nearly-matte silk of the dress, though Florence wraps and pins the long lengths of the fabric artfully, and where little glimpses of the corset do peak through, it all but glows in contrast.

I’m not sure where she found this dress, but I am thankful she chose one that’s far less revealing than the bits of fabric Eros had me practicing my seduction of Hades in.

I shudder at the reminder.

If only we could have found another way—one that didn’t involve Hades—Death might still be here.

“There,” Florence announces, setting the last pin and taking a step back .

I look up, my breath catching in my throat as I glimpse my reflection in the mirror. The fabric drapes over my curves like a satin waterfall, though not nearly as prettily as the dresses Death gave me, but it’s the mark on my neck that truly draws my attention.

Despite all of Florence’s hard work, and though it is little more than a few faint white lines against my pale skin, it’s all I can see. A constant reminder of what’s to come, of a bond I cannot truly escape.

I swallow hard, turning away from the mirror, unable to bear looking at my face in it any longer. I know I swore not to let self-pity overwhelm me, but I have to wonder at what my life has become.

What I have become ...

My life was far from perfect back home, but at least there I stood a chance. Here, I am just a mortal trapped in a world of gods, forced to play by their rules. Forced to make impossible choices that will not only decide my fate, but the fate of gods and kingdoms alike.

And yet …

Slowly, it dawns on me how little of my life has been mine to decide. I frown, vivid memories of the night I fled filling my mind. Of blood-soaked dirt beneath my feet, of the terror in Cyprian’s eyes, of the terrible stillness of that moment.

Perhaps, death has always followed me.

Will always follow me.

Maybe this new twist of fate is not so different from what I was always meant to face after all.

“I have something for you,” Florence says, dragging me away from the swirling chaos of my mind .

She takes a step back, and I turn to watch as she reaches into the folds of her skirts and pulls out an item about the length of my forearm, wrapped in cloth and bound in leather.

I can’t help but note the slight shake in her hand and the split-second of hesitation before she offers it to me with outstretched hands.

“What is it?” I ask, eyeing the mysterious package warily.

“A gift,” she says, “from Death.”