Chapter 26 Svenn #2
A sob escapes her throat, but she’s smiling now through the tears.
“We’ll need a place to live.” I turn and keep one arm around Rhianelle. “I mean we can’t just wander forever.”
Death stares at me as though I have started speaking in a language he has never heard before.
I ignore the bastard and look past him.
I scan the gray landscape and in the distance, I spot something. A cliff and high ground overlooking the endless desert. “There. That cliff is the perfect spot for a castle. I’ll build it for you. It won’t be fancy, but it’ll be ours.”
Rhianelle follows my gaze and smiles. “I don’t really need a castle. A cottage is fine, really. As long as I’m with you.”
“You deserve a castle,” I tell her. “Something with towers, great halls, and windows large enough to fill every room with light.”
Her smile grows. “Will it have a forge?”
“Of course it has a forge,” I reply. “It will have a garden too. If anyone can figure out how to make things grow here, it’s you.”
“A library too,” she adds, getting into it now. “And a room for—”
Her smile falters. “Coral.”
The happiness slips from her face. Something pulls quiet and unexpected in my chest at the mention of that name too.
I had not anticipated missing the wyvern.
She was Rhianelle’s creature, small and stubborn.
Coral had a talent for causing trouble and destroying anything within reach of her tail, but somewhere along the way I had grown fond of her.
The thought of never seeing her again leaves a hollow place inside me.
“She’s not here,” Rhianelle whispers.
“But she’s independent now,” I say firmly, even though it hurts. “You trained her well. She can hunt, fly, and survive. Coral will be okay.”
“But she’ll be alone,” Rhianelle says, and fresh tears spill down her cheeks.
“She’ll be free,” I say gently. “Free to fly. Free to live. Isn’t that what you always wanted for her?”
Rhianelle nods slowly, wiping her eyes. “Yes. Yes, you’re right. Coral’s strong. She’ll be all right. I know she will.”
I pull her close again and we both look at the cliff in the distance. Our future home in the realm of the dead. “We’ll have eternity to build it exactly how we want it and make it perfect.”
“Eternity,” Rhianelle echoes, and she sounds happy. “Eternity with you.”
“What the fuck,” Death suddenly says.
We both turn to look at him.
He’s staring at us like we’re completely insane. His face is twisted in disbelief. “You’re actually planning to stay and live here? Build a fucking castle?”
“Yes,” Rhianelle and I say in unison.
Death looks back at the gate. The souls are still flooding through. The stream has become a river, swelling wider by the moment.
“This is not how this is supposed to go!” Death runs his hands through his hair. He draws a slow breath, and when he speaks again his voice has lost its earlier edge, settling into something quieter. “There is something you should both know.”
Death turns toward Rhianelle. “Blight should never have taken your memories or interfered with your bond. What she did was reckless.”
Rhianelle stiffens against me.
“But she was not entirely wrong,” he continues. “Fate foretold that Rhianelle Wiolant and Landon would end this war and save those caught within it.”
His gaze shifts to me. “Fate says nothing about you, Arescaine.”
My jaw tightens.
“Blight saw the prophecy, saw the possible bond between Rhianelle and Landon, and decided they belonged together. She put the pieces together and acted without permission.”
Fear passes over Rhianelle’s face. Her arms tighten around me as though Fate itself might try to tear us apart again.
I hold her closer.
I will never let you go again, little fawn. Not Fate. Not Death. Not any fucking god in existence will take you from me.
Death draws a slow breath and points toward the gate. His voice loses its anger. “Do you see that? Do you see how many souls are arriving? Too many are crossing at once. My realm can’t hold them all at the same time.”
I look down at Rhianelle. Her smile has faded again. She looks exhausted, sad, and guilty as she watches the souls pouring through the gate.
“I’m only one person,” she whispers. “I can’t save everyone.”
“Rhianelle, please,” Death pleads. “I’m asking nicely now. Return to the land of the living.”
“Not without Svenn,” Rhianelle says, and her voice is calm. Final.
Death turns to me, his eyes desperate now. “You wanted true death, didn’t you, Prince of Morsvyenn? Peace and an end to your suffering? Isn’t that what you prayed for? For three thousand years? You prayed for me!”
He’s right. I did pray for that. Begged for it.
But that was before.
“I don’t want that anymore,” I say.
“Why not?” Death demands.
“Because I have her now.” I look down at Rhianelle and she looks up at me. The love in her eyes is almost blinding. “I’d rather have an eternity of suffering with Rhianelle than an eternity of peace without her.”
I feel them then. My beasts. The parts of me that have lived inside for so long. Coinneach. Mal. The demons from Hel. Ysendral. Cyntefin. Fenrir. Wendy. All the darkness that makes up who I am.
For once, they are all in agreement.
We want her. Not peace or death. Her.
The gate behind Death shudders with a deafening crack.
“This is insane,” he mutters.
A fracture splits one of the towering bone pillars from top to bottom. Another appears across the arch, then another, branching through the structure like veins. The river of souls surges harder against it. They stumble over one another, pouring through faster than the realm can receive them.