Page 40 of Love and Death (Tempting the Fates #4)

HAZEL

H ermes disappears down the mountain path, eager to go on ahead, as the God of Dreams steps over to the altar.

I can’t bear to watch as Hypnos lifts Eros into his arms. His body now seems so small and fragile in comparison to before, and I know why .

.. He, the God of Lust and Desire, no longer resides within it.

And that is all my fault.

Hypnos turns to carry Eros away with him, and I can’t help but bury my face in Death’s cloak.

“I will make the Fates choke on their own fetid threads for this, little one,” he swears vehemently.

“But I am the one who held the blade.”

“A burden you were never meant to carry,” he whispers into my hair. “Of that, I can assure you.”

I swallow my tears as I step back, only to realize Hypnos is already gone, leaving Death and me alone with Knax.

“Where should I wait for you?” I ask, suddenly anxious to be away from the mountaintop altar before I am left alone with it.

“I will ride with you to the river, and then Knax will carry you home so that you may await my return in safety.”

“Home?” I question, hardly daring to hope.

“My palace. Your home , should it please you, Hazel,” he says, his voice so gentle it settles into the cracks in my heart, cupping my face in his palm as he brushes away a tear I did not know had escaped.

“Come, I should like to be done with this dark affair so that I might return to you as soon possible.”

I nod, and he leads me over to where Knax paws the ground impatiently, his excitement palpable now as he tosses his head in the air.

“Wait, you mean … I get to ride with you? I thought Knax could not carry living beings.”

I can see my words pain him, though he answers me without wavering, “You may be a living soul, little one, but you are not living in the same sense as a mortal body.”

“Oh,” I whisper before adding, “I only ask because I was surprised. I have dreamed of this moment since the first time you took me to meet Knax.”

He chuckles softly at this. “In that case, please allow me the honor of turning the first of your dreams into reality.”

Death kneels before me, and then pauses.

“Unless you wish to ride sidesaddle, I must tear your dress—although, I hardly dare to call it that anymore. Do I have your permission to do so? ”

“Tear it,” I say without hesitation.

He needs no further encouragement and tears the skirt of the dress just enough to allow me a little more movement.

Rising, he places his hands at my waist and then, my heart pounding in my chest, he lifts me onto Knax, settling me just behind his shoulders as if I weighed little more than a doll …

and mounted on the huge white stallion, I almost feel like one.

The next thing I know, his cloak rustles, his shadows pouring over the stallion’s back in inky waves as he pulls himself up behind me in one fluid motion.

I feel the rise and settle of his hips as he pulls me back against him, his powerful thighs coming to rest against mine.

Death reaches around me to grab a handful of Knax’s mane, his other hand threading through the space between my arm and waist to steady me to him.

“Hold tight, little one,” he whispers against my ear, his voice melting into my skin, “there is nothing quite like riding Death’s stallion.”

As if knowing exactly what Death means, Knax rears up in anticipation, and I cling on with all my might as we set off. The first step is a lurch forward. The second, a leap as we plunge down the narrow mountain path at an ungodly speed, and a scream of terror and then delight is pulled from me.

We race, faster than fear, down the mountainside, Death’s cloak snapping in the wind. Knax is as sure-footed as can be, his muscles rippling beneath us with long, easy strides, and I soon realize it is not him, but the man behind me, who has my blood pounding in my ears.

Death’s arm around my waist tightens, crushing me into him as his hips rock forward in rhythm with Knax, and I feel the undeniable press of him against my back. I can’t help but want to move in rhythm with him as I drop one hand to his thigh, which causes a low growl to rumble through his chest.

“Do not tempt me, Hazel. I am already wavering on the edge of restraint,” Death warns, his voice sending a shiver down my spine.

“I do not want your restraint,” I say, my hand slipping further up his thigh. “I want your reckless abandon.”

He stiffens at this, his hand dragging up from my waist to spread flat in the space between my breasts before fisting the silk of my dress, further anchoring me to him with gentle, but possessive want.

Death urges Knax to move faster, which changes the rock of his hips, causing him to thrust even harder against me, and the aching heat within me swells.

I push my hand further back, searching for him, but am stopped as his own hand drops from my chest to bind itself around my wrist.

“Patience, little one,” he demands in a rough voice, his jaw hard. “If I did not first need to bleed this world to ensure your safety, I would be made one with you already.”

“Please, I need you—” I plead, the desperation in my voice surprising even myself, as I lean my head back against his chest, my desire for him suddenly too great.

“Shadows take me,” Death groans with a sharp intake of air.

He releases my wrist, his hand spreading flat against my body as it dips lower, but then stops.

“I cannot, Hazel. I should not—" I roll my hips forward and let out a gasp as he finds me, leather and silk still layered between us, and the aching heat bursts into an all-consuming fire.

A low growl of pleasure resonates through his chest and into me as he glances down from above, his fingers pressing harder through the silk. His shadows lick their way up my skirt, teasing the naked skin of my inner thighs, and the rushing wind drinks my moan.

“You have no idea the danger you are in, little one,” Death says, his voice like velvet sin as his touch lightens to tease a slow circle with his middle finger, and the world blurs around me.

“What it does to me, watching you ride the very edge of desire. How you test the limits of my restraint … What I would not give to tear this dress from you and make the Universe witness to my ruin.”

He bends to press the side of his mask against my face, his fingers dipping even lower for but a second before he suddenly pulls away, shadows and all, to my utter dismay.

It’s only now that I realize where we are as Knax slows to a stop at the edge of the river.

“Forgive me for what I have just done, Hazel, I beg of you,” he says softly against my ear. “I will return, and I will finish what I have started, but not here. Not like this.”

He straightens, dropping from Knax’s back before I can protest, as Charon glides into view and crashes his boat into the shoreline.

The desire bleeds from me at the sight of the ferryman, and heat rushes up to flood my cheeks instead as I realize how shamefully I’ve behaved …

and how much I’d just asked Death to risk for my own selfish pleasure .

For a moment, I lost myself in him, the grief and torment that brought us here all but forgotten.

But I won’t allow that to happen again.

I will wait patiently for him to return and—

“Uh ahh,” I cry out as sharp pain causes me to double over sideways. I topple from Knax’s back, Death catching me in his arms before I can collapse onto the rocky path.

“Hazel, what is wrong?” he asks, the fear in his voice somehow even more painful.

But I can’t answer him. I suck air in through my teeth, clutching at my side as a stabbing pain digs deep between my ribs.

Death lowers me quickly to the ground, his back to Charon as he reaches for the silk and tears it away with ease, only to reveal the corset beneath.

“For heaven’s sake,” he snarls, gently rolling me over to rip apart the laces and chemise before folding the fabric forward to see what I am clutching at, somehow managing to keep my modesty.

He pulls back slightly, his gloved hand running down my side as his shadows curl up to trail after it.

“There is no wound. Nor can I feel anything amiss beneath the skin.”

The sharp pain subsides, and I shift slightly in my relief, causing the key and ring Cerberus had given me to drop from the corset onto the ground. Death slowly leans over me to pick them up, his inky shadows growing still around him.

“What is this,” he asks, his voice barely a whisper, as he holds up the ring.

“Cerberus gave it to me,” I answer, finally able to speak again. “He said you would know … ”

His glove groans softly as his fist tightens around the ring before he looks back at me.

“Where is the mark?”

“What?”

“He is bonded to you, is he not? He could not have removed this from himself otherwise.”

My heart leaps into my chest as I suddenly have to wonder what this will mean for us. I hesitate a moment longer, fear gripping my throat as I struggle to answer.

“Yes,” I say, the word barely audible despite it tearing through my soul.

Death looks away for a second, staring off across the river as his hands fist tighter where he kneels. Turning his gaze back to me, he asks once more, “Where is the mark?”

“My neck.”

He reaches out with one hand to gently pull away the damp, wild hair stuck to my skin, and I have to look away as he finds it. His finger trails over it for a second before he pulls back, swallowing hard.

“Forgive me, Hazel.”

Rising, he pulls off his cloak to cover me before stepping over to the edge of the riverbank.

A weighty moment of silence follows as he looks out over the Styx, and then …

“ Fuck!”

The word roars out of him like the crack of thunder far too close for comfort—the sound savage, half-disbelieving laugh, half-anguished plea—as his shadows pour out of him in furious raging waves.

He takes a deep breath, forcing his shadows to calm with him before striding back over to kneel before me.

“I’m sorry.”

“What? No, little one,” Death hurries to stop me. “You have done nothing wrong. Though you make me crave violence in my desire to protect you, my fury is not—will never be directed at you.”

“Does the mark …” I start, but my mouth turns to ash, the question dying on my tongue.

“Ask what you need to know. Please, do not be afraid of me. I should not have lost my composure in front of you, even for a moment. It will not happen again.”

“I do not fear you, Sydian,” I try again. “I fear what your reaction means …what this mark means for us.”

“It means nothing,” he pushes through clenched teeth before correcting himself, “It will mean nothing, though not nearly soon enough. But I am afraid I must change our plans, Hazel.”

“Oh?”

He exhales deeply, his hands flexing at his sides, before saying, “I can no longer go alone. I must ask you to come with me.”

Dread pools in my stomach at the thought of returning, but it’s mixed with relief, knowing Death and I will not be parted.

“Then I will come.”

He sighs again and offers me his hand. Taking it, Death gently helps me to my feet as my torn clothes fall to the ground beneath his cloak.

“I cannot have you striding into the Underworld, marked and naked,” he says with a small snort as I step forward and he notices the pile of fabric I’ve left behind .

“But I don’t have any—”

With a wave of his hand, I am unable to say more as Death’s shadows slip under the hem of the cloak to slide deliciously over my skin in waves softer than silk.

“You can return my cloak now.” He takes it from me as I move to shrug the heavy cloak from my shoulders, revealing what he’s done. I can’t help but gasp at the beauty of the living dress he’s crafted for me from his own shadows.

“You are perfection,” he says, and I feel his shadows tighten ever so slightly around my waist in response to his voice.

“Thank you, the dress is stunning.”

“Do not thank me, I should have thought to dress you in my shadows sooner,” he says, giving me one last look of approval, before turning toward Charon.

“No, not you again. I refuse—”

I let out a small cry of shock as Death flicks his hand once, and his shadows pour out of him like a raging river of spilled ink toward the ferryman.

They crash into him, curling up to devour him in darkness before dragging him over the side of his own boat …

and into the Styx with a splash that screams in vicious hunger before swallowing him whole.

“Come, little one,” Death says, looking back to take my hand in his, “Let us raze the Underworld to the ground, so that we might finally return home, together .”

And with that, we step toward the boat, once again, to return to the Underworld.

But this time …

Fate is on my side.