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A warrior. The only other person who had called him that was Necalli, Izel’s secret lover since lying with another man was forbidden. Izel had seen Necalli in the crowd, the only person who hadn’t cheered Djimon on. He stood there in the back, tears burning his eyes, knowing there was nothing he could do to save Izel.
Izel knew he was a warrior without Jaden calling him one. A fierce warrior who had proven himself time and again to his people. Until today, they had respected him, along with his brothers. If only his father had respected Izel for his strength instead of fearing him. That was what this was all about. Djimon feared Izel, feared his strength as leader, his ability to hunt and feed the tribe, his compassion, his empathy, qualities Djimon lacked.
“I will do it,” Izel said, his voice firm.
Jaden nodded, and Izel felt a chilled hand on his chest. He gasped as a rush of energy flowed through him, and he felt his body change, his wounds healing almost instantly as the clamp fell away from his mouth.
“Come, warrior,” Jaden said. “We have work to do.”
Izel looked back one last time at his father, who was still making a show of himself in front of everyone, ignorant to the fact that his son had just died and was reborn.
And then he followed Jaden, leaving his old life behind.
Chapter One
Two Thousand Years Later…
Izel quietly appeared in the forest, right next to where the woman lay slain. It wasn’t his place to judge, to have any opinion, really, but she had been much too young to die.
Instead of reaping her soul and leaving, something inside of him told him to linger. Izel watched as the sheriff talked to his men, watched as the coroner loaded the body onto the stretcher, no one knowing he was even there.
“Is that me?” the woman beside him asked. “Am I dead?”
Izel nodded, keeping the hood up on his robe. He’d long ago lost his passion for what he did, for the life he now had. If you could call it a life. It was more like a mere existence. He’d lost count of how many souls he’d led into the afterlife, how many times the dead had tried to bargain with him, how many had cried out at the injustice or refused to believe they were no longer a part of the living.
“But why?” she asked, watching as her body was taken away. “I was just taking a walk.”
Izel rubbed his chest at the strange sensation inside of him. His instincts told him that there was something important close by, but he couldn’t figure out what it was.
“You were senselessly murdered,” he told her dispassionately. His feelings had become muted a long time ago.
“No!” She backed away, and then her brows shot up when her legs went right through the bushes as if they weren’t even there. “I have family,” she said. “A mate who is going to miss me.”
Everyone had someone that would miss them. Most did, anyway. There wasn’t anything Izel could do for her. His only job was to guide her along to her afterlife.
Nothing more, and nothing less.
Sometimes his job truly sucked. People like her didn’t deserve to die—in fact, most didn’t deserve it. It had been her fate, but that didn’t make it right. All because some shifter with a broken mind had sold her out to human hunters. There was no doubt that her mate was going to go insane from the loss.
And there was nothing Izel could do to change things.
He touched her with his scythe, and her ghost vanished, sent away to her eternal resting place where her ancestors would greet her and help her acclimate to her new existence.
When she disappeared, Izel remained behind, watching the law enforcement personnel scour the area. How long had it been since anything piqued his interest?
Unsure why he felt the need to linger, Izel closed his eyes and focused on that feeling deep inside of him. When he opened them, he was in a dimly lit hospital room, and on the bed in front of him lay a man with his eyes closed.
Izel moved closer. This human was the source of that need. The longer Izel studied him, the more he became curious with the creature.
Creature. That was what mortals had become to him, even though Izel had once been mortal himself. The stranger had the darkest hair he’d ever seen, with tanned skin and a pert nose. Was the human going to die? Was that why Izel was there?
He reached out to brush his fingers over the human’s face but caught himself and pulled his hand back. Since when did he have a need to touch anyone?
It was then that Izel knew why.
This human was his mate.
Izel recoiled at the revelation. He had been alone for so long that he had forgotten what it felt like to be connected to someone. But here was this human, this stranger, who was tied to him through fate.
