Chapter 24
Iwill say it again.
It is insane how much changes within you once you unify with your inner world. Groundbreakingly insane.
Things just… click. Powers emerge, and you understand so much more than you used to.
That is what happened to me.
The moment I merged my soul back together, I realized exactly what the Grim Reaper girls asked me to do. They want me to throw their existence out of balance, driven by the hatred and injustice that have blinded them.
It is the exact same thing I wanted to do with Mark.
I sidelined my true purpose, and what my soul truly wanted, to chase an answer that was never an answer at all.
“They say they want to move on, but…” I shake my head. “If they want that, they can. They really can. There is nothing stopping them from going into the afterlife and letting go.”
All three of my guys just stare at me.
“I don’t understand,” Cassian says. “I thought you can only move on if you get revenge on your killer. That way you balance out the karmic score, and you can finally rest.”
“That’s what I told you,” I say.
“And that was… a lie?” Talon asks.
“Somewhat,” I reply, backing up a couple of steps so I can sit on the sofa.
The guys still choose to stand in front of me, like they need to keep their footing for whatever comes next.
“I didn’t know it back then, but the difference between a soul that died with unfinished business and a wraith is minimal.
And a human psyche is so complex that it’s hard to predict how to approach it when it’s in a state of stress and anguish and—“ I cut myself off and pull in a slow breath.
Calm down, Skye. Approach this calmly. It is a revelation, yes, but it is not a bad one.
“Death needs to give the souls who do not want to move on a purpose,” I say.
“Without one, everything they’ve been harboring turns into energy, a surplus so violent that the soul starts to distort.
That’s why he’s built this narrative that a victim has to wait for their abuser’s death and retaliate.
It helps soothe the ache. It gives the pain a direction. ”
None of them looks any less confused. If anything, it feels like I’m planting new questions in their heads faster than I can answer the old ones.
Talon is the first to push forward. “But if that’s true, then way more souls would be unable to move on. What about people who died naturally but still had all this bitterness inside them? People who hated someone so much they can’t let go?”
I nod.
“How come they don’t turn into Grim Reapers, you mean?” I clarify.
“Yeah, basically,” he says.
“That’s because the karmic imbalance is the key,” I tell him. “It’s what creates the pressure point, the thing that forces a choice and makes the release possible.”
Nathaniel folds his arms.
“Hold on,” he says slowly. “You just said Death gives souls a purpose so they don’t distort. But if the imbalance itself is what forces the choice, then isn’t Death just delaying the inevitable? The distortion still happens if they don’t pick revenge or forgiveness.”
I hesitate. “Technically, yes. But they always choose. That’s the point of the system.”
Talon lets out a short, humorless breath. “A system that depends on emotional instability to keep working? That sounds like containment, not mercy.”
“I don’t think the system is perfect.”
Cassian narrows his eyes at me.
“And what about you?” he asks. “You said you merged your soul. That means you broke out of that system. So why aren’t you distorting right now?”
The question punches through me. I open my mouth, but no sound comes out.
Nathaniel leans forward. “You said wraiths are souls that don’t have a purpose. That means if Death’s purpose is the only thing keeping a soul stable, what’s keeping you stable, Skye? Because I doubt you give two fucks about Death’s missions anymore.”
A silence stretches. Their eyes stay fixed on me.
“I…” My throat tightens. “Because I gave myself one,” I manage finally. “I made my own purpose.”
Nathaniel doesn’t blink. “And what purpose is that?”
I shift on the sofa, suddenly too aware of my body, the space between us, the fact that I can’t hide when it comes to this.
I knew the question would come sooner or later.
I just didn’t expect saying it out loud to make me feel this exposed.
I mean, I already told them I love them, so it should be obvious.
Are they slow or something?
“Well,” I say, forcing the words out through my nerves, “you three.” I meet their eyes one by one. “My purpose is to be with you three, no matter what happens.”
The second it leaves my mouth, heat crawls up my neck and I feel ridiculous for being that direct.
It is not the same as confessing love. It lands heavier, sharper, and packed with far more implication.
Because what I really said, underneath all that simplicity, is that if one of them dies, or betrays me, or leaves, then I might not just hurt. I might become an actual wraith.
No pressure, right. Just the very core of my being depending on our relationship.
But they do not look pressured. They look glad.
Talon’s grin stretches from ear to ear. Cassian smiles too, just a little less, perfectly in Cassian’s style. Nathaniel only nods, like this explains everything and he is perfectly satisfied with the answer.
“And that’s what I like to hear,” Talon murmurs. “So you’re basically just like us.”
“Just like you?” I cock a brow.
“I mean, I thought about it a bit, you know?” he continues. “If people with a karmic imbalance might turn into monsters, then we three are perfect candidates. Not only did we kill a bunch of people, but we also cannot live without one certain Little Grim.”
“I already made my peace with it,” Nathaniel says. “I’d become a wraith ten times over rather than move on without you.”
Cassian nods.
“Same here,” he says.
My heart swells so hard it almost hurts. I want to kiss them right here, right now. I want to be with these guys forever. No, it is not even a want. It is a need.
Before, I only didn’t want our moments together to end.
I wanted to be alive, to go through life with them the way normal people do, clinging to the soft little future Cassian admitted he could imagine in that car.
Now, though, I want to be exactly what I am.
Half-dead, half-alive, with only the three of them holding the living parts of me in place.
I am already shifting, already thinking about getting off the sofa and crossing to them.
I picture their arms, the way they always hold me so well, like they know the precise shape of what I need.
I am a breath away from moving when another flock of crows erupts outside, loud enough to scrape down my spine.
Adrenaline snaps through me and shreds the warm, honeyed mood.
“We still need to do something about the Grim Reapers,” I say.
“If I kill their murderers, I’ll expedite their process of moving on, because they won’t do it naturally.
Either they’ll move on with unfinished business rotting inside them, which will destabilize the afterlife even more than the Candy Maker already did, or they’ll turn into wraiths too.
And Rhea has a hold on me, so we cannot let them trap us in here again. ”
“And either way we’re fucked…” Cassian quips.
“Pretty much,” I say.
Talon drags a hand down his face and lets out an incredulous laugh. “Every fucking day,” he mutters. “Every damn day something happens that changes the entire game. I can’t even keep track anymore.”
I bat my eyelashes at him. “At least it’s exciting,” I say sweetly.
“Yeah,” he says, exhaling. “You’re right about that.”
“So what now?” Cassian asks. “What do we do?”
I let the question hang while I think. There’s a lot we need to do, and most of it starts with the Grim Reaper girls. The problem is, I don’t trust them enough to stroll out there, invite them to a chat, and believe they won’t go straight for our throats.
Right now, they think killing the two in the basement is their entire purpose. They’re wrong, catastrophically wrong, but the odds of my words alone changing their minds feel slim.
“We expand our protection,” I say finally. “We cover the entire hospital and the surrounding grounds, not just this room.”
“More wards?” Nathaniel asks.
“Wards, salt, and…” I pause as the idea clicks into place mid-sentence. “And something that’s going to be even harder for them to penetrate. Something that amplifies my presence.”
The thought settles in my mind, unpleasant and weirdly obvious all at once. It’s a little gross, honestly, but at this point that barely registers.
“Do you still have my bones?” I ask Nathaniel.
He blinks. “Your bones?”
“You know,” I say, deadpan. “The ones you dug up from my grave.”
A short, loaded silence follows. Talon’s jaw drops. Cassian’s eyes narrow slightly. Nathaniel just stares.
Then he nods once. “Yeah. I do.”
“They still carry the echo of my old energy,” I say. “They’re residual conduits of me. If I scatter them in a wide enough radius, I can anchor the barrier to myself. It’ll fuse the wards, the salt, and my power into something stronger than any of them alone.”
Nathaniel watches me with that analytical look of his, like he’s running the math in his head. “Okay,” he says finally, as if this is a perfectly normal sentence to hear in our situation.
“Let’s go get them, then,” Cassian says. “Where are they?”
“In my room,” Nathaniel replies.
“Nothing better than keeping a skeleton of your girlfriend in your closet, am I right?” Talon jokes.
Cassian gives him a look sharp enough to cut glass. “You’re one joke away from being buried next to them.”
Talon grins wider. “Then we’d match. Couple goals.”
I roll my eyes. “Both of you, shut up. Nathaniel, get the bones alone. I need to prepare a little.”