Page 2 of Love and Death (Tempting the Fates #4)

HAZEL

D eath’s head is bowed, his body bent, as if in offering of the immense power he has just given away. The sheer magnitude of his presence seems to fill every breathless inch between us, the weight of his sacrifice closing in like an impending storm.

Slowly, his dark eyes lift to meet mine, burning with the intensity of a thousand dying suns.

A thousand shattered hopes and unfulfilled dreams that all say the same thing ...

Oh, how I have loved you, little one.

He does not speak the words … but carves them into my very soul.

I can see them in the way his shadows claw to reach for me— Feel them as they crash over me with all the force of a surging tidal wave, leaving no room for doubt or denial, only recognition of his raw, unrestrained devotion in their wake.

He has loved me like no other, and I …

“Death!”

The desperate cry of his name hangs heavily in the air between us, though I do not know how or when it escaped my lips. I want nothing more than to pour out my heart to him in this moment, but something in his eyes stays my tongue.

The tempest rising within me suddenly calms as the world around me fades away to nothingness . A nothingness in which all that remains … is us.

For but a moment, time chooses to stand still. Chooses to grant us one last breath to share, and the Universe is as it should be.

As it always should have been.

A thousand unspoken words seem to pass between us in the split second it takes for his eyes to grow dull, and the love I’d always dreamed of, but never thought possible, to dim within them.

And, just as quickly, our moment is gone.

I want nothing more than to run to him, to scream his name again, but both my legs and my tongue refuse to obey. Instead, all I can do is watch—bound and gagged by my own body—as the love of my life drops to his knees with a heavy thud before my eyes.

Death’s body folds forward as he collapses to the ground, a cloud of dust billowing up around his fallen form, and my heart stills in my chest. His shadows surge up like midnight flames of mourning before gradually dying down to form a pool beneath him, and then, they fade away altogether.

He is gone.

Sydian is gone, and my heart with him.

A chill unlike anything I have ever known crashes over me, stunning me with disbelief as my mind refuses to process what I’m seeing.

Let alone accept it.

An otherworldly silence fills the arena, ringing in my ears, for what feels like a lifetime, before it’s suddenly shattered by a soul-rending scream. It isn’t until several seconds have past that I recognize the scream as my own, dredged from the very depths of my tormented soul.

What have I done?

Several questions ring out from the crowd as if they, too, cannot believe what they’ve just witnessed.

“Is the trial over?”

“What does this mean?”

“Is he really dead? Is that possible?”

My vision tunnels as I lurch forward, my legs finally breaking free of their emotionally induced paralysis in a desperate attempt to get to him. To pull Death into my arms and breathe life into him once again.

But fate has other plans for me.

Time and reality snap back into place with a vengeance as Hades steps into view, barring my way forward and stopping me in my tracks.

He waves his hand, and the creeping shadows edging the arena suddenly rise up to form an imposing wall between us and the crowd, effectively silencing their outcry and blocking us from view.

“And just where do you think you are going, petal?”

Disgust rises to knot my stomach at his new pet name for me, adding insult to injury, as if Persephone were not grieved enough by me .

“Please,” I gasp, my voice twisted with pain. “Please, let me go to him. Let me say goodbye.”

Hades snorts at this, a cruel sneer pulling at his features, somehow sharpening them further, as he looks down at me and slowly shakes his head.

“Why? There is nothing left for you to bid farewell to,” he says dismissively, his icy gaze keeping me rooted in place. “Cerberus, summon the guards! Death’s carcass is to be removed at once.”

“At once, my king.”

I glance toward the hellhound, my eyes pleading with him not to obey, but he refuses to meet my gaze. I watch him disappear into the shadows before turning back to Hades.

“What do you intend to do with him?” I ask.

“Who?”

He says this in such a cavalier manner—as if I could be speaking of anyone else—that I have to force myself to remain composed.

“Death.”

Hades’ mouth twitches as he weighs whether or not to answer me for an uncomfortably long moment before saying, “He is to be dismembered.”

“No!”

My stomach twists sickeningly at the thought, and I can’t help but stumble forward in an attempt to get to Death before Cerberus and the guards return.

“Stop. One step further, my petal,” Hades says, his voice low and measured, “and I will see to it that his body is dismembered before your very eyes.”

“I do not doubt you already intend to do so. ”

“True, but I had not planned to do so right here. Right now. That, of course, can be arranged if you would prefer not to wait.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Then test me.”

I glare up at him, my jaw aching as I bite back a reply but do not move.

Movement behind Hades draws my attention, and I watch as three armed men materialize from the surrounding darkness, Cerberus following just a few steps behind.

“Take Death’s corpse back to the palace,” Hades orders.

The three guards hurry to obey, shoving my father roughly aside in the process, and I watch in horror as he is sent sprawling across the dirt.

My gaze flickers angrily back to Hades, but before I can utter so much as a word of protest, one of the guards lets out a strangled cry and then collapses to the arena floor …

Dead .

Hades whirls on them, blue flames licking up around the edge of his head and shoulders as his face distorts with rage.

“Careful, you fools ,” he snaps, his eyes flashing dangerously. “Death may have relinquished his presence, but that does not mean his body has forgotten its power. Do not touch your skin to his again if you wish to keep what remains of your pitiful existence. Send for another guard!”

I frown, unable to keep my heart from skipping a beat, as I glance from Hades to Death and, finally, to the now lifeless man lain out before us.

Would not Death’s powers also cease to exist if he were truly gone?

Of course, I cannot claim to understand the ways of the gods or the workings of this realm … but even here, Death’s powers remaining intact without him still existing in some way seems like an impossibility.

Besides, did not Death himself suggest as much when I first inquired into the nature of his being? Did he not say that he was neither living nor dead, but that he simply was.

If that is true, and I have to believe it is, then perhaps he is not dead, at least, not in such finite terms.

And yet, I cannot deny the horrible sense of finality in the scene that now lies before me.

Cerberus returns with another guard who steps in to replace his fallen companion, eyeing the others warily before cautiously kneeling and reaching out to take hold of Death’s upper arm.

This time, nothing happens.

Relief softens the tension between them, and the other men quickly move into place to help carry Death’s body from the arena. Their relief is short-lived, however, as they soon find themselves struggling to move him any significant distance.

“I will not suffer fools. Do as you have been bid, lest I scatter you like ashes upon the ground myself,” Hades hisses, snapping his fingers impatiently. “More men. Quickly, now!”

Cerberus once again obeys, and a few moments later, more than double the number of men have materialized from the darkness to aid the other guards in their struggle.

This time, they’re successful in their endeavor, though it still proves to be no easy task.

I watch on in dismay as Death’s body is all but dragged from the arena.

Just as they finally manage to disappear into the shadows, an involuntary sob escapes me before I can catch myself. The king’s attention immediately snaps back to me, his eyes burning with such dark intensity that they have my stomach knotting.

“The trial. You,” I start, the words spilling from me before I have a chance to think them through, “you twisted it for your own means, didn’t you?”

“Clever, girl,” Hades says, seeming genuinely impressed. “But you cannot honestly tell me that you are surprised. I am a man of my word, after all.”

I cannot hold my tongue at this. “That is highly debatable—"

“Is it,” Hades smirks, closing what little distance there is between us and catching my chin in his long fingers before I have a chance to step out of reach. “Did I not tell him that I would be the one to claim you in the end?”

“I would rather die than allow you to claim any part of me,” I spit.

“Allow,” Hades says, with a laugh that turns my stomach, before dropping his voice to an icy whisper.

“I do not need your permission, mortal, nor do I want it. However , if death is what you truly desire, then I will be more than happy to grant it to you … but not before you have finished playing your part. And by then, I doubt you will be capable of remembering what you wanted, let alone begging for it.”

“I will not be party to any more of your schemes,” I hiss back, his choice to call me mortal again not going unnoticed.

“You already are. Now, you will return to the palace—"

“No,” I object, yanking my chin from his grasp and stumbling back a few steps, my mouth growing dry at the very thought of returning to the dark halls of his sapphire palace and, undoubtedly, his bed.

“You still dare to defy me?” Hades scoffs, a wicked grin stretching across his face as he lifts one hand and snaps his fingers. “Very well. Men, seize the mortal’s father.”