Page 37 of Love and Death (Tempting the Fates #4)

HAZEL

I ’m pulled back to the mountaintop in a flurry of emotion, color, and chaos.

Hermes catches me before I can fall to the ground, my body shaken from the strange, overwhelming experience, and I squint up at Hypnos, the first light of the rising dawn behind him and the altar where …

I scramble to my feet with Hermes’ help to run over to it.

For a moment, the two gods remain perfectly still.

And then, Death’s chest rises and falls.

“He’s alive,” I gasp, hardly daring to speak the words, as I watch him take another small breath. And, for one beautiful moment, I think it’s all finally over.

“Then, you have made your choice?”

“My choice?” I ask, tearing my eyes away from Death to look up at Hypnos.

“Which soul to save. You have made your choice?”

“What? I don’t understand.”

The looming god is suddenly too close as he leans over the altar.

“In the dream, which soul did you sever?”

“Sever? I didn’t sever anything. I saw Eros, and then I saw Death—”

Eros’ body suddenly arches as if writhing in pain, and Death goes still again.

“Of all the nightmares, mortal. Their souls are in torment; they are still bound to each other. You must choose one!”

“How?”

“The dagger that rests at your thigh, I have seen it. Use it.”

“I cannot!”

“You must, or both will die. Now, choose! The dawn is fast approaching.”

I do not know how Death’s blade found its way into my hand as I stare down at it, the mountaintop a dizzying blur around me as I turn toward the altar.

“Hermes.”

I barely register Hypnos’ voice or Hermes grabbing my arm to help me step up onto the altar to stand between Eros and Death.

Dropping to my knees, the knife trembles in my hands.

My heart shatters like broken glass in my chest, time slowing to a near standstill as I look between them and raise the blade above my head.

Gripping it tightly with both hands, tears roll down my cheeks as I force myself not to look away, and I plunge the dagger straight into Eros’ heart.

His eyes open as he gasps before coughing up ichor, dark and shimmering with starlight .

“Eros.” I taste salt, my body shaking as I crawl forward to cup his face in my hand. “I …”

“I know,” he says.

“Please, I did not want this—”

“It was always going to be him, was it not?” I hesitate, not knowing whether I should answer him. I cannot bear to cause him even more pain. “Please, my darling mortal, the truth.”

I nod, my own heart aching as my words undoubtedly shatter his.

“Yes, I do love you both,” I whisper, my tears falling to speckle reflected sunlight across his cheeks, “but—"

“You had to choose, and I was not the one who held your heart,” Eros finishes weakly.

“I am so sorry, Eros—”

“No. I will not have you apologize for me, darling.”

“But if it weren’t for me, you’d still be alive …” I sob as he coughs up more dark ichor.

“As if I was ever alive before you,” Eros laughs through gasping breaths. “Loving you did not end me. It began me. You were not my downfall, my darling mortal, you were the spark that showed me how to burn.”

“Please, there must be a way to save you. Please,” I beg, my voice shaking as I look up at the other gods.

Eros’ hand finds my face, drawing my eyes back to him.

“I-I would just ask one thing,” he starts.

“Anything.”

Eros smiles faintly, his pale eyes searching for a face he cannot see.

“Remember me in your heart,” he whispers through strained breaths before choking on more god’s blood and going still.

“Eros? Eros!” I scream, lifting up slightly to lean further over him. He does not move, his eyes open, now truly blind to the world, and his lips slightly parted. “No!”

I press my lips to his, willing him to breathe again, but there is nothing there, and I curl in on myself as ugly sobs begin to rack my body. The gentle kisses of a soft, cool breeze, calm and comforting, wrap over and around me, as I struggle to breathe in my anguish.

What have I done?

“Little one,” says a voice of deepest velvet.

I push myself up onto my hands at the sound of it, still gasping for air as hot tears continue to splash onto the altar. It is only now that I realize I’d been feeling Death’s shadows against my skin.

My grief mixes confusingly with overwhelming joy as Death reaches for me, pulling me flat against his chest to hold me tightly in his arms.

“You’re alive,” I whisper through my tears, tucking my face against him as I wonder how I’m supposed to continue living with the burden of what I’ve just done so heavy upon me.

“I am, little one, and I remember.”

Death holds me in sweet silence, allowing me to feel without rush or judgment, until I finally pull back to look up at him. My heart sings at the sight of him, despite the pain.

His dark eyes soften behind the mask, but something lies deep within them. Something powerful, more ancient and knowing than I’ve ever seen before .

“What do you remember?” I ask quietly.

“Everything,” he says, his gaze piercing.

“I remember you. Us. My own death …” He rises from the altar, grabbing me tenderly around my waist to help me down.

“I remember the before and the after ... And I remember what was stolen from me. Who I was before the monsters that call themselves gods and guardians tried to rewrite me.”

My eyes widen as Death’s shadows begin to swirl around the lengths of his cloak.

“Who you were before?” I ask.

“Who he is now,” Hypnos corrects for him, reverently. “He is Fate. He is our beginning and our end. He is the thread that carries us.”

The whole universe seems to still as Death—Fate slowly reaches up, suddenly far taller than I remember, and carefully removes his mask, his skin like moonlight, luminous and otherworldly.

Pitch-black hair falls in shadowy waves to frame piercing, all-seeing eyes within a face too beautiful …

and yet, too terrifying to possibly describe.

Death has been rewritten.

He is not the same man I saw before, though I can still see a piece of that in him.

Now, he is not only Death.

He is life. Fear. Perfection.

He is … Fate.

He is my everything .

And I know that I would choose him in this life and all the rest.