Page 24 of Love and Death (Tempting the Fates #4)

“Thank you for showing me your paintings,” Hazel says, looking up at me, her sincerity swelling my heart.

“I do not want you to think me angry. I understand the intimacy behind such things. I suppose each painting here is a small piece of your heart and soul, just as it would be in waking life. Probably more so.”

“If only they could be in waking as they are here, I would let them take all of my soul … as long as the subject is you.”

She gives me a sweet smile, but I can feel the sorrow of her heart in it. She wishes she could say the same to me, but she cannot.

It would be a lie, as her heart and soul are still painting him.

“It is beautiful here. I wish I could stay.”

This is true.

“I wish that too, but as it is, you will have to leave soon.”

“Why? Did I do something wrong?”

“Wrong? No,” I laugh.

I wish I could call her refusal to let me worship her wrong. That I could bring back the me before her. The me that would not shy away from guilting her into giving him a taste of her.

A strange sense of shame comes over me at this .

Is this all I have ever been suitable for? My entire life, spent, chasing a desire that could never have satisfied my true hunger.

Thank the gods that my brother is not here to listen to these thoughts.

“Then why?”

My attention returns to the girl, and I harden my jaw for a moment before finally telling her the truth, “This place is coming apart, and when it does, so will I.”

“Then let me help you.”

“It is not quite that easy.”

“Why not? This is your dream, is it not? Surely, there must be a way.”

“Ah, if only this were a dream.”

A spike of fear pierces me.

“But you said—”

“Forgive me. I have misled you, Hazel. This,” I wave a hand to gesture at the space around us, “is my true mind, my psyche, my very soul laid bare. Everything here is as real a memory to me as it will be for you when we part.”

She pulls away, and I immediately feel the loss of her hand in mine like a dagger through my heart.

“Why?”

“I only wished to spend a little more time with you before it was too late.”

“Too late? What do you mean? What is happening?”

“I am dying, my darling mortal.”

She shakes her head, the color of her eyes deepening even as they widen in disbelief.

“Why would you say that?”

“Because it is true ... there is another trapped here with me, and my body—my soul cannot carry the weight of his much longer.”

“Then, he really is here, too?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t understand. How did this happen?”

“I would blame Anteros, but it is my own fault. My brother informed me that Hades intended to use your father against you in the trial, and I could not let that happen.”

“What are you saying?”

“Was it not obvious?” I question, surprised. “I took his form. I stood in for him during the trial.”

She frowns, shaking her head slowly.

“But, if you stood in for him, then why is his soul trapped here with you?”

I blink several times in thought before recognizing the misunderstanding.

“My dear, it is not your father’s soul trapped here with me.” I pause, not quite ready to speak the name that will put an end to this moment between us.

“Then whose soul do you speak of?”

Sighing deeply, I answer, “It is Death’s.”

“Death? He’s here?”

I feel the tremor, deep within my mind the moment she speaks his name. She is drawing him out, like an ancient god awoken from his slumber, and I know we do not have much time left.

“Yes.”

“Can I speak to him?”

“No.” I see the disappointment on her face and feel the bitter sting of it in my heart. I turn my face, unwilling to let her see how easily she wrecks me.

“Why?” she asks, distrust and betrayal rolling off her in soul-crushing waves. “Why did you really bring me here, Eros?”

Her questions, the way her eyes narrow on me, I can hardly bear it. Though part of me is thankful that I cannot let him visit her here, another part of me knows that I would not allow him to, even if I could.

Not here, not in my own sanctuary, where I should not have to share her with anyone but myself.

“You cannot speak to him because that would end us all. I am only still alive, because I have not given up. My mind—my body would break beneath the full weight of his soul,” I try to explain.

“I have fought to hold on, fought to carry him, but I cannot contain him forever, Hazel. His soul must be severed from mine and returned to his own body, or together we will die .”

“What would you have me do?”

I close the distance between her, grabbing her arms and turning her to face me, urgent in my need for her to remember what I tell her next.

“Find Hypnos, tell him exactly what I have told you, and he will know what to do. You must bring both our bodies to him and reunite Death’s soul with his own, whatever the cost.”

“What do you mean by whatever the cost?”

“That is not for me to tell you or to decide,” I answer. “You will know ... When the time comes, you will know the choice you must make, and you will make it.”

“What makes you so certain of this?”

“Hazel, you forget, I have seen your soul. ”

The air ripples in warning .

“I can save you.”

As if I were ever worth saving.

Large, unbidden tears slip down her cheeks, and I smile down at her.

“I know. I know you can, my dear mortal,” I say softly, bending to kiss the tears from her face. Her heartache is bitter, but I can taste their sweetness, her warmth in them still.

“I promise,” she says, every word spoken in truth, “I will do as you’ve asked. I will find a way to save us all.”

Gods, I love her for thinking it is so simple.

Another tremor, the weight of the world bearing down on my shoulders .

“No, that is a promise not even a god can make,” I respond vehemently, my fingers tightening around her arms. “I must reject it. I refuse to have you bound by a promise you cannot keep.”

Her face blurs before me, bleeding from my memory even as I struggle to hold on. To keep my mind from collapsing upon us both.

“I—”

The corners of my mind splinter.

“It is time. You must go.”

“Eros—"

I relish the pleasure of my name on her tongue, carving it forever into the depths of my mind; of my soul. I want nothing more than to keep her here with me, to hold her, but I will not.

I refuse to be the end of her .

Distant rumbling, fragments of memories turning to dust, quickly drawing nearer.

“Remember me,” I say, my voice calm, refusing to let her share in the knowledge of coming destruction. “When the choice comes, remember that I have loved you. That is all the promise that I ask.”

The ground shifts beneath me. There is no more time.

I lean down to press one last kiss to her forehead, and then, I shove her backward, over the gallery’s balustrade, and out of my mind, with all the strength I have left in me.

The marble splits beneath my feet, the curtains rending as the sky shatters above me, and the petals turn to ash.

The illusion tears itself apart, crumbling into ruin.

And I fall—not into memories or dreams—but into silence and shadow, in which I feel nothing.

I see nothing.