Page 51 of Reaper’s Curse

Whoosh, whoosh.

Before my foot could securely swing back to the ground and provide purchase, he captured my ankle and, with a lift and twist, sent me in a sideways spin. The ground swirled around me, rose up, and slapped me in the face. No sooner had I hit the stone than I jumped back on my feet, stared down Valen and pulled my scythe free, preparing to strike.

Valen became Winter, and I hesitated. Despite my anger, I didn’t want to cut down the prince. Only as quickly as the prince stood there, he vanished. The Killian took his place. He knocked the scythe from my hand, sending the reaper tool skittering out of reach.

Crap.

Valen, Winter, the Killian. I was losing my mind. Why was my chest bursting with such uncontrollable rage? And what magic was the Killian utilizing that had me seeing so many faces masked upon his own?

Or was it my mind creating such a trick?

After all, my skin was too tight, my bones aching and shaking, and my lungs were failing to drag breath.

I clenched my fist in the air and screamed. Spewed into the air a wail of hellish demon vileness that poisoned my system. Then I narrowed my sights and charged the Killian.

Before I could reach him, he turned to mist, and from the mist stepped Chace.

Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh, whoosh.

I was mad at him too, for…something. I believed, thought, suspected maybe, my directed anger held true. I didn’t slow my attack.

The man wearing Chace’s face splayed his hands at his sides and approached weapon-free. “What are you⁠—”

I tackled him to the ground.

“Dammit,” he said with a growl and shoved me sideways, twisting and pinning me beneath him. “Reaping hell, Raven. What’s gotten into you?”

I didn’t listen. I couldn’t. The rage had control…and it likely wasn’t really Chace at all, but the Killian attempting to manipulate me. Trick me.

“Stop this.” He snagged my arm, pushed to his feet, and attempted to pull me into a hold.

Red and ash tinted my vision as I slammed my elbow into his chin. With a grunt, he released me and stumbled back a couple steps.

“That hurt.” He spat blood on the stone at his feet.

I swung and missed as he dodged at the last second, barely clearing my strike.

“Raven.” His voice was tempered, soft and reluctant.

He sounded as if he were speaking to a wild animal.

Maybe that’s what I was: wild, untamed, ready to pounce. I no longer felt like myself. Roiling lava owned my inner workings.

Whoosh-whoosh-whoosh-whoosh-whoosh.

His nostrils flared and eyes widened, dark and impossibly animated. As if lightning were crackling across the gathering storm of his irises.

He sucked back a sharp breath. “Shit, Raven. You’re not⁠—”

I spun, connecting my heel with his face. His body jerked to the side, but he didn’t go down.

“Fuck.” He bent over, pushing at his jaw, massaging. The ink of his tattoo, currently creeping up past his neck, contorted with the motion. “Will you please stop it? I don’t want to hurt you. I’m trying to help you.”

A sharp laugh burst from my lips, yet I had noted the male had come into the fight with nothing other than defensive moves. He could have lunged at me in full-offense mode. I was certain he was trained for it. All reapers were. No doubt the Killian was no different…or Chace, if that was who truly stood before me.

I shook that notion away with another scream then pressed my palms to the side of my head. I had started this confrontation with the Killian. No doubt it was still the Killian I faced off with. Nothing else made any sense. Not that what was unfolding made sense, either.

Still, it had been a while since he had utilized his magical time tool, blinking around me, easily avoiding my attacks.