Page 22

Chapter

Fifteen

JUNIPER

T ime froze as Pride's lips touched mine.

For one disorienting moment, something sparked between us—a strange current of recognition, like déjà vu but stronger.

His mouth was warm and surprisingly gentle, tasting of something ancient and sweet, like honey aged in oak.

For a heartbeat, my body responded before my mind could catch up, my lips softening against his.

Reality crashed back.

This stranger, this immortal being, had just told me I'd died. And then he kissed me?

I jerked back, rage boiling up from somewhere primal and fierce. My palm connected with his cheek before I'd even consciously decided to slap him. The crack echoed through the office, his head snapping sideways with the force of the blow.

Lust burst into laughter, deep and unrestrained, while Pride stood frozen in shock, one hand rising slowly to his reddening cheek. His eyes were wide with disbelief, as if no one had ever dared to strike him before. Maybe no one had.

The demon cat thing, Damon, lifted his head, eyes gleaming with what looked suspiciously like amusement.

"What the hell gives you the right?" I demanded, my voice shaking with fury. My hand stung from the impact, but I welcomed the pain. It kept me grounded in this surreal moment. "You don't get to drop a bombshell like 'by the way, you died' and then kiss me!"

Pride blinked rapidly, still cradling his cheek. "I—you—we have a connection," he stammered, all his earlier arrogance crumbling. "I felt it when you arrived in the Underworld. You're...special."

"Special?" I echoed incredulously. "I am nobody's 'special' anything. I don't even know you!"

Lust's laughter subsided to chuckles, but his eyes had sharpened, flicking between Pride and me with calculating interest.

"This is getting more entertaining by the second," he drawled, though something in his tone had hardened.

I paced away from the desk, trying to create physical distance as my mind whirled. They were saying I had died. Actually died. Not just buried alive and escaped. The implications crashed over me like icy water.

I died. I really died. Everything I thought I knew about what happened to me is wrong.

"You're lying," I said, but even I could hear the uncertainty in my voice. "I clawed my way out of that grave. I was just unconscious."

Pride shook his head, some of his composure returning. "No one survives being strangled and buried. Your body was in the Underworld—cold, lifeless. I saw you myself."

No. No.

"Why would you reanimate me? You didn't even know me." I gripped the back of a chair, needing something solid to hold onto.

Pride's eyes darted to Lust, then back to me. "I told you. I felt...something. A connection I can't explain."

A connection? With me? A dead stranger? Something about this doesn't add up.

Fragments of memory flickered at the edges of my consciousness—a vast gray emptiness, a sense of drifting without form or substance, a pulling sensation as if I were being drawn back through a long tunnel. Had those been dreams, or something more?

“And you didn’t know where I’d be when I...came back to life?” I screeched at him. “Having to claw my way out of my own goddamn grave was almost more traumatizing than being strangled!”

He winced.

"So what am I now?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. "A zombie? A ghost? Some kind of magickal abomination?"

"You're you," Lust said unexpectedly, his voice gentler than I'd ever heard it. "Just...with a few extra miles on the odometer."

I glared at him, not appreciating the attempt at humor. "That's not an answer."

"You're alive," Pride insisted. "Fully, completely alive. Reanimation isn't resurrection or necromancy. It's...returning a soul to its body before the connection is fully severed. You're still human."

A hysterical laugh bubbled up from my chest. "Human. Right. Is that why I can suddenly see auras? Why can I capture emotions in bottles? Why do I feel magic now when I never could before?"

Magick I wasn't supposed to have until I completed the bond with Xavier. Magick that appeared after I supposedly died. This can't be a coincidence.

Both sins stilled at that, exchanging a look that confirmed my suspicions. My abilities weren't normal, even by supernatural standards.

"What exactly did you do to me?" I demanded of Pride.

Pride ran a hand through his dark hair, messing up its perfect styling. "I tethered your soul to your body and returned you to the living realm. It's rare and something that can get me in big trouble, but not unheard of. The effects vary."

"So you used your magick on me without my consent? Yes, I know I was dead, but that’s no excuse! And now you think that gives you some sort of claim over me?" My voice rose dangerously. "That I'm somehow 'special' to you because of it?"

Just another man making decisions about my body, my life, without asking me. Another cage, just with prettier bars.

The demon cat chose that moment to stand, stretching languidly before jumping down from the desk. He padded over to me, surprising everyone by rubbing against my ankles. A soft rumble that might have been a purr emanated from his chest.

"That's...unusual," Pride said, momentarily distracted. "Damon doesn't typically warm up to strangers."

“His familiar is a witch,” Lust added.

I ignored him, kneeling to cautiously stroke the cat's midnight fur. A strange warmth spread up my arm at the contact, and Damon's eyes—red as embers—held mine with unsettling intelligence.

When I stood again, I felt steadier, my anger crystallizing into something colder and more focused.

"I want the whole truth," I said to both sins. "No more half-answers or cryptic bullshit. What exactly happened to me, and what does it mean for what I am now?"

Pride exchanged another look with Lust before sighing. "When I saw you in the Underworld, I felt...drawn to you. It wasn't a rational decision to reanimate you. I just knew I couldn't let you go."

"Because of this mysterious 'connection' you keep mentioning," I said flatly.

He had the grace to look marginally embarrassed. "It's more complicated than that."

"Simplify it for me," I countered.

"Reanimation requires intent and power," he explained reluctantly. "The stronger the...affinity between the reanimator and the soul, the more complete the return. You came back...perfectly. That suggests something between us that transcends ordinary interaction."

"Something like what?" I pressed, noticing how carefully he was choosing his words.

Pride shifted uncomfortably. "There are...legends. About souls that resonate with each other across planes of existence. Most consider them just stories, but..."

Is he seriously suggesting what I think he is? That we're some kind of cosmic soulmates? After everything I've been through with Xavier?

"You're talking about fated mates?" I asked incredulously. "That's your explanation? A children's fairytale?"

Pride's cheeks flushed. "I didn't say that exactly, but?—"

"Fated destiny is a convenient excuse for kissing strangers," Lust interjected dryly.

I absorbed this, my mind racing. "And my new abilities? The emotional alchemy?"

Pride's brow furrowed. "That's...unexpected. Reanimation sometimes awakens latent talents, but creating something entirely new is rare."

I thought of the cobalt bottle at home, still glowing with captured joy. The way emotions revealed themselves to me now as visible auras. My power—my unique, unexpected power that had emerged after I'd literally returned from death.

Wait. My magick was supposed to come from completing the bond with Xavier. What if...

Suddenly, something clicked into place. The contract with Xavier had been meant to unlock my magick, a union that would have bound our families through ritual and sex.

Death had unlocked it instead—or rather, returning from death.

Pride's essence had catalyzed something that was always inside me, waiting for the right key.

"I was reborn through death," I said slowly, the realization solidifying. "The traditional path to my magick was through a union with Xavier, but I found another way—through dying and returning."

I got my magick without him. I beat the system.

I'm free.

A tiny, unwelcome thought flickered at the edges of my mind: what if I'd simply traded one magickal bond for another? What if Pride's reanimation had created some kind of connection between us that I couldn't see or control?

No. Absolutely not. I refuse to believe I escaped one magickal contract only to fall into another one without my knowledge or consent. That's not how my story ends.

Lust straightened in his chair, interest sharpening his features.

"That's...actually a sound theory. Magickal contracts often have loopholes—the universe tends toward balance."

My gaze shifted back to Pride, seeing him with new clarity.

Not as a savior or a creep who had kissed me without permission, but as a catalyst—an unwitting key to my own power.

Whatever bond might exist between us because of the reanimation, it didn't give him ownership of me.

That much I knew with bone-deep certainty.

"I'm not your destined anything," I told him firmly. "Whatever connection you felt, whatever power you used to bring me back—that doesn't make me yours. I don't belong to anyone."

Pride's expression fell, but he nodded slowly. "I understand."

"No, I don't think you do," I continued, feeling stronger with each word.

"I appreciate that you saved me. Truly. But I've spent my entire life being defined by others—my mother, my coven, Xavier.

I'm finally becoming someone of my own making, and I won't trade one cage for another, no matter how gilded. "

Not again. Never again. I've been passed from one owner to another since birth. That ends now.

The office fell silent. Even Damon seemed to be listening, his tail swishing slowly against the floor.

I took a deep breath, centering myself. Then, acting on pure instinct, I reached for the anger still simmering inside me.

It responded eagerly, rising to my call like a familiar pet.

I imagined drawing it into my palm, the way I'd drawn the child's joy into the cobalt bottle.

To my amazement, crimson light gathered in my hand—tangible, vibrant, pulsing with my fury.

Both sins stared, transfixed, as I shaped the energy between my fingers. It wasn't hostile magick—not a weapon or a threat—just pure emotional essence made visible as a cloud of red mist in front of me.

"This is what I am now," I said quietly. "Not your soulmate. Not a victim. Something new."

Something of my own making. Something no one can take from me.

Pride swallowed hard, his eyes never leaving the light in my hand.

"Incredible," he whispered.

The crimson energy dissipated as I released it, scattering into the air like embers. I felt oddly lighter, as if the demonstration had burned away some of my fear along with my anger.

"So," I said, straightening my shoulders. "Now that we've established I'm not some supernatural property to be claimed, what happens next?" I looked between the two sins. "What does being reanimated mean for me in the long term?"

Pride seemed to remember himself, blinking as if coming out of a trance.

"I...don't know, exactly. It's rare enough that each case is unique." He hesitated. "I actually came here looking for Lust for something entirely different. Finding you was...unexpected."

"Convenient timing," I remarked skeptically.

"Pride doesn't do anything without purpose," Lust said, leaning back in his chair. "Whatever brought him here today, it must be important."

Pride shot him a look that I couldn't quite interpret.

"It is." His gaze returned to me. "You're right that we need to discuss the implications of your reanimation, but perhaps not all at once."

I considered this, suddenly aware of how exhausted I felt. Learning you'd literally died and been magickally brought back to life was a lot to process in one afternoon.

"Alright," I said decisively. "I'm going to take some time to think about all this.

But when I'm ready, we're going to have a longer conversation about exactly what happened and what it means for me.

" I fixed Pride with a hard stare. "And in the meantime, no more unexpected kisses or claims of fated connections. Are we clear?"

Pride nodded, looking somewhat chagrined. "Crystal clear."

"Good." I straightened my blouse, reclaiming some professional composure. "I think I'll get that coffee now. You two obviously have something to discuss."

Lust made a dismissive gesture. "Take your time."

I stood, gathering my purse and the twenty dollars Lust had handed me earlier. Damon butted his head against my leg once more before sauntering back to Pride's side. The gesture felt oddly like approval.

As I headed for the door, Lust caught my eye with an expression I wasn’t used to seeing on his face. Sympathy.

"We're not done here," he said quietly.

"No," I agreed, holding his gaze steadily. "We're not."

Pride paused as I passed him, looking at me with an intensity that made me want to step backward.

"For what it's worth," he said softly, "I am truly sorry for how I approached this, but I'm not sorry I brought you back."

Before I could respond, I slipped past him into the hallway, pulling the door closed behind me. I leaned against the wall, taking deep breaths to steady myself.

I'd died. I'd returned. I'd discovered powers I'd never dreamed possible. And somehow, I'd become entangled with beings so powerful they casually discussed reanimation as if discussing a minor medical procedure.

I should be terrified. I should be falling apart. But instead, I feel...powerful.

Pushing away from the wall I headed toward the door, past the curious gaze of Thea. Outside, the bright afternoon sun felt like a cleansing after the intensity of the office. I inhaled deeply, feeling the crisp air fill my lungs—lungs that had apparently stopped working completely not too long ago.

I was Hazel Blackwood, who died. I was Juniper Grey, who lived. I was neither and both and something entirely new.

And I was going to become a force to be reckoned with.