Chapter 68
LXVIII.
DANTE
Dante had known the other Death Lords would demand answers eventually.
He hadn't expected it to be this soon.
One hour since returning from Caelum's refinery. Since carrying her through the palace while she shook with sobs and guilt that wasn't hers to bear. Since getting her to his chambers and spending twenty minutes cleaning blood from her wrists, where those cursed restraints had cut deep.
She'd finally collapsed against his pillows, fatigue dragging her under. But even unconscious, her expression twisted with self-blame.
His shadows had refused to leave her even when he'd stepped away—curled around her wrists over the bandages, threaded through her hair, wrapped around her throat like a possessive collar.
He'd left her to check on his domain.
His realm was failing. The Tower of Screaming Winds had gone silent, no new souls to fuel its purpose. The Weeping Marshes receded, saltwater pools drying without fresh grief. Ward-stones throughout his domain pulsed irregularly.
A day, maybe two, before collapse.
His death-knights were already reporting instability. Souls becoming agitated, confused by the sudden cessation. His servants asking questions he couldn't answer yet. And the other realms were suffering the same, all of them being starved while Caelum harvested everything.
That's when his death-knight had arrived with the summons. A demand from three Death Lords who'd discovered their soul-flow had been completely severed.
A subtle tremor ran through the palace—one of his ward-stones failing somewhere in the outer realms.
The Reaper within him wanted blood. Wanted to return to that facility and tear Caelum apart slowly. But she needed him here. That mattered more than vengeance at the moment.
The shadows brought another warning: multiple powerful presences materializing in his throne room without permission.
His nature snarled at the invasion.
A moment later, his study door opened without a knock.
Aldric stood there, armor scorched from containing the power signatures flooding the throne room.
"My lord. The other Death Lords are here. They transported directly into—"
"I felt it." His jaw clenched. "Who's here?"
"Seraphina, Vex, and Thessa." The knight hesitated. "Lady Seraphina is volatile. They're demanding your presence immediately."
His shadows wound tighter, responding to the anger building in his chest.
"They'll wait." The words came out cold enough to make the knight step back. "I'll deal with them when I'm ready."
But even as he said it, he knew that wasn't an option. If he made them wait, their anger would only build. And they'd take it out on Brynn when they finally faced them.
The floor shuddered beneath his feet. He felt it through his connection to the realm, another ward-stone failing in the Weeping Marshes.
His gaze moved toward his chambers. She needed to face them. Needed to be part of stopping this. Keeping her away would only feed her guilt.
He moved toward his chambers, shadows reaching ahead. They slipped under the door, gentle tendrils wrapping around her to check, to confirm, to reassure himself that she was there and safe.
She was awake when he entered.
Sitting on the edge of his bed, her injured wrists resting in her lap. She looked up at him with weary eyes that held too much guilt.
"The other Death Lords are here." No point in softening it. "Emergency council. They've discovered their soul-flow has stopped."
She stood immediately, like she'd been expecting this. Her balance faltered, and she caught herself against the bedpost with wounded wrists.
His shadows were there before she could fall, settling around her waist. She leaned into them for a moment, and satisfaction pulsed through him at her trust.
Then she forced herself upright.
"They're going to blame me."
"They're going to try." The words came out like a growl before he could control them. "I won't let them."
"Dante, I opened that gateway." Her voice wavered. "I gave Caelum exactly what he needed to—"
"Caelum manipulated you." He moved closer, unable to stay away when she looked like that. His hand cupped her face, thumb brushing across her cheekbone. "Set a trap specifically designed to use your bloodline against you. You were trying to save us. What happened wasn't your fault."
"Then whose fault is it?" Her voice broke completely. "I have the abilities. I commanded the gateway to open. Me. So whose fault is it if not mine?"
His thumb retraced her cheekbone, the dark circles under her eyes more pronounced than before.
"We face this together," he said quietly. "But let me handle the initial politics. They're going to be looking for someone to blame, and I need you to trust me to position this correctly."
She studied his face for a long moment, searching for something.
Finally, she nodded.
He stepped back, giving her space. She went to the washbasin, splashing cold water on her face with careful movements that avoided jarring her injuries. She changed quickly, pulling on the gown his servants had provided. When she straightened, she pushed back some of the fatigue with determination.
There she is. His thief, refusing to break.
His shadows wrapped around her as they left his chambers, and he let them. Let his power reveal that she belonged to him.
They moved with intent, tracing her pulse points—throat, wrists, the hollow behind her ear. Curled around her throat like a visible collar. Slid beneath her clothing to rest against bare skin.
Every shadow-tendril a declaration: touch her and die.
The walk to the throne room was silent except for their footsteps. He could feel the other Death Lords pressing against his wards, adding more strain to systems already weakening.
The throne room's temperature had shifted erratically when they crossed the threshold. Seraphina's wrath mixed with the heat bleeding off Vex's starving power.
The mosaic floor bore fresh cracks from Seraphina's pacing. Vex's hunger had scorched dark patches on the windows. Even Thessa's gentle presence had left frost patterns spreading across surfaces.
He bristled at the invasion.
All three turned when he entered, and their unified focus felt like standing before an execution squad.
His shadows curled around Brynn's ankles, making his position clear before he even spoke.
Seraphina didn't waste time on pleasantries.
"Finally." She kept pacing, hand on her weapon. Each step cracked his floor deeper. "Do you know what's happening, Reaper? My battle-dead aren't reaching my domain. Every soul that should come to me, warriors and murder victims, all of them vanishing at the moment of crossing."
"Mine as well." Vex's voice cracked with desperation.
The Lord of Consumption stood rigidly by the windows, hands clenched.
Dark circles shadowed his eyes, spreading like bruises across his skin, becoming more transparent by the hour.
"The consumed souls that feed my realm are gone.
I can feel my power weakening with every death that doesn't reach me. "
His form flickered at the edges. He was fading.
"The spirits scream." Thessa drifted near the shadows, her translucent form flickering more violently than usual.
Parts of her kept disappearing, an arm vanishing for seconds before reforming, her face losing definition.
"They show me souls being pulled away from their destined paths.
Harvested before they can even understand what's happening. "
Her form solidified just long enough for her eyes to lock on his.
"Something has corrupted the flow of death."
The palace groaned around them. Foundations weakening.
Seraphina's eyes locked on him. Her hand wrapped around her weapon's hilt.
"Your realm seems remarkably intact, Reaper." Her voice dropped. She stepped forward. "Your defenses are perfect, and you're the only one strong enough to pull off something like this."
His shadows drew tighter around Brynn, several threads remaining wound through her bandages even as he stepped forward—putting himself between her and Seraphina's building aggression.
"My realm was attacked too." He moved toward the throne, letting his presence command the space.
Drew their focus away from Brynn and onto him.
His shadows spread across the floor, reminding them whose domain they were standing in.
"My soul-flow stopped an hour ago. The Tower of Screaming Winds has gone silent.
The Weeping Marshes are drying up. My ward-stones are failing one by one. "
The darkness spread further, pooling around their feet like a tide. The temperature dropped as his power filled the space.
"Convenient timing." Vex's desperation made him reckless. "You discover it first, have time to prepare your story, position yourself as the victim instead of the architect—"
"I discovered it first because I've been investigating the ward sabotage for months." His voice hardened, dropping to that tone that made even other Death Lords reconsider. "This isn't an attack. It's the culmination of a plan that's been building longer than any of us realized."
The floor cracked beneath them.
Thessa drifted closer, her form flickering with agitation.
"The spirits showed me the gateway opening." Her eyes locked on Brynn, fully solidifying with accusation. "Ward-work twisted into something new. Activated by someone with an architect bloodline."
His shadows tightened.
"Someone who's been in all our courts," Thessa continued. "Studying our defenses, learning our vulnerabilities."
Seraphina's pacing stopped. She turned to face Brynn directly.
"The human." Seraphina's voice filled with accusation. "She arrives in your court out of nowhere. You bring her to investigate all of us, learning our vulnerabilities, mapping our wards. Then Caelum makes his move, and suddenly she opens a gateway that gives him control of everything?"
Her jaw clenched.
"She's been playing us from the start. The question is whether you knew, Reaper, or if she played you too."