Page 55 of Blood & Bedlam

Her body jerks, and time stops around us.

“What the fuck?” Thanatos whispers in disbelief, his wings beating in a slow cadence, treading air. I feel the spark of her soul, and by sheer will alone, I drag her back toward her body. It’s a hellacious endeavor, my bones crack on the counter-pull. They want to take her to the Underworld, but I’ll die before I let her soul drift in the Styx. I’ll raze the entire realm to the fucking ground first.

“You. Can’t. Fucking. Have. Her.” I spit each word through a grunt, teeth locked tight as my knees dig into the ground beneath us. The wood groans as I roar, and then suddenly, I’m not alone. Cami’s hands are on my shoulders, gripping me, holding me down, adding her might to the pull.

“Help us!” she commands, and then Tully is there, too, our combined weight anchoring Reine and Thanatos back to the earth, back to us, her family—

“I love you, I love you, please,” I repeat to her. I need her to know, I need her to see, but the beating of Thanatos’s wings grows louder the more power he puts into it. He’s a good person, but I’ll tear his fucking heart out before I let him take her. I’ve cheated death a thousand times; she can do it once. My resolve never waivers, though my grip on Reine is slipping, until I’m holding on with my fingertips. I close my eyes, knowing that, despite my efforts, we’re fighting the laws of the cosmos.

We’re fighting Fate.

“Fuck the Fates.” My head snaps up at her voice in time to see her ghostly eyes open wide, her incorporeal hand actively seeking my hold. Her fingers close around my wrist and Thanatos’s eyes nearly bug out of his head as she wrenches her body closer to mine. I don’t even think before I grunt, pulling with everything in me. Reine’s soul slams back into her body, the recoil sending the God of Death shooting into the beams of the ceiling with a sickening crunch. Reine’s body is still, too still. The silence is deafening. Thanatos manages to land on unsteady legs, one of his wings bent awkwardly, but his eyes are narrowed on Reine’s unmoving body as he steps closer, cautiously.

No one speaks.

Then it comes. The sound like sunlight, like music, like the sweetest gift of the cosmos. Inside of a body remade by magic and bones from centuries past—the gentle, sluggish thud of a heartbeat rings clear.

Reine

CHAPTER 30

There is no more pain, no burning in my throat, no screaming of protest in my muscles. I am … weightless. I can’t feel my body, and a passing thought reminds me I no longer have one. The sensory deprivation would be unnerving, but I feel nothing but quiet contentedness, my hands and arms lifting in gentle lulls around me.

A roar shakes through my world, jolting my slumber, and I hear his voice.

“You. Can’t. Fucking. Have. Her.”

There’s a rage to it, a bone-deep fury that makes my world tremble. I want to open my eyes, but it’s like I’ve got no eyes to open. I’m adrift, and the fear and heartache at hearing his pain tears away that contentedness I had been feeling. I reach for him in my mind, searching, seeking, but I’m lost, too lost.

“I love you, I love you, please.” His voice is so wounded, broken, and I claw at the confines of my nothingness, desperate, as I realize I’m not ready to go.

I’m not ready.

Strong arms band around me. I feel Vladimir as my chest arches up. He’s dragging me through the expanse of the abyss, arresting my descent into darkness with everything he has. My body or soul, whatever I am, reaches for him, and it feels like I’m being dragged to the surface. The breakers roar heavy against me as Death fights for its claim.

His voice grows louder, the ache more desperate as the chord between us pulses, the consecrated Bond jolting with renewed energy. I can feel Cami there, too, using all her might to bring me home, for her father, but also for me. I fight harder for him, for us, for the future of our family. I fight for the life we lost together, for the one we’ve yet to build. I fight for Juliette, Camille, Claire, and Fleur, loving them more deeply than I thought, knowing the devastation this will cause is beyond catastrophic.

My face breaks the surface, and in the darkness, my eyes blow wide. Vlad is holding me, his face distraught, but those eyes, the steel of them, are devastated. The liquid of the abyss drips from my body, landing in wet drops behind us, but the pull is still there, wanting me back. His voice rings out in my head, though his lips don’t move, the Bond stronger still, wrapping like vines around my rib cage.

“I close my eyes, knowing that, despite my efforts, we’re fighting the laws of the cosmos. We’re fighting Fate.”

His thoughts are ravaged and broken, but I command my hand to reach for him, for my soul to crawl to him through broken glass if that’s what it fucking takes.

“Fuck the Fates,” I gasp, and with a heave, I reach for him, gripping his arm as white light fills my vision, blinding me with oblivion.

My eyes are heavy, my body weighed with sleep and exhaustion, but I fight against the current, willing my mind to wake. I crack my eyelids and nearly cry out from the onslaught of pain. My muscles are tight and sore, like I’ve never used them before. The room is dim in the pale of night, but still too bright for my eyes. It takes a second for me to adjust, and when I manage to, it’s the most welcome sight.

Vlad sits on the floor at the side of the bed, eyes closed, hand in mine. His long lashes dust over his cheeks, his breathing steady and calm. In the shadows, he looks peaceful.

“My devil,” I rasp, wincing at the strain of my vocal chords. His eyes fly open, silver as the moon outside, relief wracking through every muscle in his body.

“My star,” he breathes before bringing my hand to his lips and tracing kisses over my knuckles. The movement is so tender, so heartbreakingly gentle. A torrent of emotion wells up inside of me, scrambling my thoughts as memory rushes back, flooding my mind. Wet, hot tears leak over my cheeks, and in half a second, Vlad is up and moving, curling my body to his, rocking me against his chest.

Life and death, betrayal and redemption, all swirl together in a haze of pain and shocked relief. His hands brush over my hair, his lips press against my temple, my head, and his arms—hells, those arms—they’re everywhere, holding me together. It takes me a moment to realize I’m doing the same for him, embracing him with what little strength I have left in my bones.

“You’re okay, I’ve got you. I’ve got you,” he promises, his chest shaking against me.

“Camille—” I groan, as the image of her being pinned pushes to the forefront of my mind, amping up my heart rate with panic. Had I stopped them in time?