Chapter 43
Vivian’s Point of View
Rule forty-three: Avoid dropping the ancient bone artifact – even if it recognizes you.
“It’s interesting, but it isn’t enough,” Morgana says with a sigh. She rubs her eyes like she’s trying to wake up as she leans back against the headquarters table.
Incredulous, I wave the scythe around, loving the way it whistles through the air. “But it’s an immortal-killing blade. They’re super rare and they could–”
I stop short when she pulls out her dagger and lays it on the table. “This is mine. It can also kill an immortal, but not an army of them.”
My enthusiasm deflates a little.
Ragna reaches for a leather sheath at her side, pulling out a small axe. She lays it next to Morgana’s dagger and gives me a frosty stare. “And this is mine.” She tips her chin at my scythe. “Though, from what you’ve told us, that is not yours.”
She’s using the same tone that employees use when you accidentally set off the door alarms, and they want to see your receipt. My cheeks flush, and I barely manage to contain my embarrassed groan. I low-key regret letting her stay for this meeting.
The door has been replaced, but most of the others are busy with other tasks.
Damien is recruiting a rebel army in the Angelic Realm, since apparently, they want to stay neutral.
Magnus is questioning our detainees to weed out Need’s allies (spoiler: there are many).
The others are either organizing housing or helping in the infirmary.
Given the whole ‘top secret Reaper powers’ thing, I tried to talk to Sin and Morgana alone.
It did not go over well. My pride still stings over the way Ragna reminded me that alienating our only ally with a standing army is ludicrous.
Of course, she also had to go and bring up how she saved Sin at my wedding.
When I looked to Sin for his advice, he shrugged and said it was my call. I gave him my best disgruntled look, and the infuriating man winked at me. But apparently, I was taking too long to decide, since Ragna stormed to the door.
I assumed she was leaving.
She was not.
Instead, she slammed the door shut and traced a glowing symbol onto the wood.
She muttered something in a language I didn’t understand (it was definitely a cuss) before stalking back toward me.
Her expression was tight with irritation.
“I know you’re a Reaper, Vivian. Now, I suggest you stop testing my temper and get to the point. ”
Personally, I was too shocked to do anything but blink. Sin, on the other hand, immediately threw an accusatory glare at Morgana, who took exception to his reaction and glared back.
The tension only worsened when Ragna rolled her eyes and reminded us that she’s a shifter and could smell it on me.
When Sin argued that Magnus is also a shifter and didn’t know what I was, she simply noted that I’m not the first Reaper she’s smelled.
Her grin turned wolfish when she added that she’s been around much longer than most.
Now, after showing them the scythe, explaining how I got it, and excitedly pointing out its potential for helping us win the war, I have regrets.
If I ever learn to apparate, I’m using it to exit conversations like these.
And to avoid running up the basement steps after turning off the lights.
There’s a knock at the door, and I quickly thank the universe for a reason to change the subject. Pulling back my Reaper power, the scythe shifts into a bracelet before disappearing against my skin.
Sin’s eyes track the motion, watching the bracelet as if it might suddenly become sentient and try to choke me. He might not be over the whole ‘I got dragged into a creepy well full of dead people’ part of the story.
Honestly, same.
“I’m sorry I’m late,” Rosie chimes as she walks inside, but the sound is more hollow than usual. Her wings hang behind her, and the dark circles under her eyes make my chest ache even more than it already does. Losing Irena again is really taking a toll on her.
Pulling up a low-backed chair, I motion for her to sit. At the same time, I can’t help but wonder if Sin had a similar response when Need and Leon took me. A fresh wave of guilt washes over me.
“It’s okay, you don’t need to be sorry. Have you slept? Can I get you anything?” The guilt only intensifies when I wonder if anyone has been checking on her.
I should have done it. I’m a terrible friend.
Sin’s hand settles on my lower back, sensing my distress. Rosie gives me a weak smile that doesn’t meet her eyes. “I’m just fine. Don’t worry about me.”
“You’ll take a break after this meeting,” Morgana commands, looking at her with the same concern.
Rosie presses a palm to her forehead, resting her head. “Yes, alright.”
Sin tugs me backwards, setting me on his lap in the chair beside hers. But even his warmth isn’t enough to chase away the lingering guilt.
“Can’t we just invade the Fae Realm? We know Need and Leon are hiding out there, and that’s where Irena is.
Couldn’t Sin use his power to dis-exist their entire castle?
Or at least all the guards he comes across, until he has her?
” I ask because I’m frustrated, and clearly, my brain has accidentally switched to ‘brainstorm your homicidal thoughts out loud’ mode.
I need a factory reset.
Rosie’s head snaps up, her eyes wide. “You can’t! My mother lines the halls with innocents. All the courtiers are forced to parade their children there. She says she does it to celebrate new life, but she’s using them as living shields.”
Something ugly twists inside me.
“There would be nothing stopping Leon from doing the same thing here,” Morgana adds, as she takes a seat in front of us. “And the after-effects would be far-reaching. The other realms would immediately target us.”
Ragna nods, her arms crossed as she stands at the head of the table. “The more power a creature holds, the greater their responsibility to use it wisely. My people will not stand for mass slaughter.”
I narrow my eyes at her, wondering if this is the right time to point out that the Council sanctioned the use of Destroyers to cause mass deaths in my realm for ages.
“The Fae Realm would never recover. Our reproduction rates are very low,” Rosie adds.
Sin’s arms tighten around me, and I lean back into his touch. “Then what do we do? Need could attack any minute.”
“We wait,” Morgana answers with a shrug.
My frustration mounts.
Waiting isn’t a strategy; it’s having an anxiety attack in slow motion.
“We cannot fight her in the Fae Realm. They have defenses there, and any attempt would leave the Otherworld unprotected,” Ragna notes, her voice hard.
“Many of my soldiers cannot apparate and will rely on others who can. It will slow us down. Our best chance would be to meet her in the Mortal Realm, where we won’t be impeded by wards. ”
“The longer Need waits, the better our chances,” Morgana adds.
I look between them, feeling completely out of my depth. “Why?”
Morgana folds her hands on the table, and I almost miss the faintest hint of a tremor that rolls through them. “Because we are vastly outnumbered. I don’t believe the Angelic Realm will truly stay neutral. If they plan to join Need, then we will be outnumbered at least three to one.”
The moment she finishes, the air feels heavier.
Those are terrible odds.
I always knew math would be the death of me.
Sin draws reassuring circles on my back, even as my mind races to look for a solution. The thoughts don’t come quickly, weariness making everything feel muddled.
The numbers might not be as big an issue if we outmatched them in power.
Sin and Leon will probably be busy fighting each other.
We have other powerful magic users, but I’m assuming Need’s army has some, too.
My power might be helpful, but what if I accidentally lose control and take out everyone, including our own armies?
Ideally, I’d like to deal with only one apocalypse at a time.
Or none.
None would be great.
My mind circles back to why I wanted to find Irena in the first place. “Having a literal god on our side might help,” I mutter, more to myself than anything.
Morgana hums in agreement. “It certainly wouldn’t hurt. But the flow of souls has been completely staunched. Almost no Forsaken have arrived in my forest since you freed the others.”
Rosie stares blankly at the wall, barely registering our words.
Seriously, though, there’s definitely something wrong with her. I’m starting to wonder if it isn’t just that Irena was moved. But I can’t help her if we’re obliterated in a war.
I sigh. “They’re missing here, too. Maybe we could ask around to see if anyone in the Otherworld knows where they’re going?”
It’s a long shot, but it beats sitting on our hands and waiting.
“You’ll have better luck in my realm,” Ragna says. “You’re less likely to run into one of Need’s spies, and our souls have only just gone missing. They disappeared the same day Need held court.”
My eyes widen. I thought this was a gradual process. “All of them? How?”
Ragna places her palms on the table, looking grim.
“Souls in my realm don’t enter slavery. Collectors bring the wisps to the Ever Fields, where they remain until their decay.
Only then do we send them to the Shadow Realm.
But that day, I returned home to find my collectors slaughtered, and the field had gone dark.
My people are furious and want answers. They will speak to you. ”
“Perfect, let’s go ask them now.” I nearly bounce off Sin’s lap, ignoring the cramps in my legs.
“Wait,” Ragna orders, striding my way.
Immediately, Sin stands behind me, curling a protective arm around my waist. Even without the mate bond, I can feel his distrust.
She reaches into a small satchel on her leather belt. “Only shifters can apparate others into my realm. My wards ensure it. Take this. It will be enough to get you through, without needing to rely on others.”
She holds out an ivory-colored ring to Sin. I’m ninety-nine percent sure it’s made of bone.
Sin doesn’t take it. He arches a brow, his voice flat. “I don’t need that to get into your realm.”
Ragna doesn’t lower her hand, giving us both a warning look. “Do not tamper with my wards, either of you.”
There’s enough venom in her tone that I take the ring. It feels cold and ancient until I close my hand around it. Something that feels like recognition sparks, sending heat shooting up my arm.
I almost drop it.
Oops.
My eyes dart back to Ragna’s, hoping she didn’t just see that.
She sighs, muttering something before turning away.
She definitely didn’t see. (She did.)
“Ready?” Sin asks, gently squeezing my other hand.
The ring pulses, almost like it has a heartbeat. My stomach twists, evidently not on board with my newfound collection of possibly sentient jewelry.
Tearing my eyes from the ring, I nod, even though the truth rattles inside my chest.
I was never ready for this.