Chapter 1
Lyra
Life is such a complex thing. My life is no exception. I’m a wolf shifter and I was rejected by my mate, the one person specifically designed by the moon goddess herself to love, worship and protect me. It's cruel, really and the pain from his rejection was worse than anything I could ever imagine, so intense that I honestly believed it would kill me...so many times I wish it had. Now I’m moving from one day to the next in a daze, not dead, but not really living either, just lingering somewhere in between. If it weren’t for my work at the pack hospital, I would likely have given up long ago, though it's always still an option I consider several times a day.
Tonight is going to be chaotic at the hospital with our warriors fighting another rogue attack. The attacks have been becoming a more frequent occurrence which is bad for the pack, but good for me since work is the only reprieve I get from the hell that is my life. It's not like I stand around hoping my pack members will be injured, not at all, but I won't turn away from the distraction fate so willingly offers me.
The first of the injured are on their way and I can feel the heaviness in the air around me, but unlike the other healers who let it weigh them down, it grounds me. I hear the shouts as the nurses welcome in the first of our injured warriors and push my thoughts aside so I can focus on my task. I hurry out of the locker room and straight to the first trauma room where I’m greeted with the gruesome sight of a warrior who I can already tell won’t make it, but I still give it my all...I always do. I clean his wounds and try applying salves and bandages to staunch the bleeding, but all my efforts are wasted, just as I knew they would be.
Knowing he’s slipping away, I take his hand in mine, offering him connection and comfort during his final moments. I see movement in the corner of the room, something shifting in the shadows, watching, waiting, biding its time. I’ve encountered many reapers in my life, a ‘gift’ I was given as a result of a near death experience as a child, but this one is different. I can feel his powerful aura, but he’s not accompanied by the same smell I usually detect upon their arrival, sulfur and ash. He takes a step closer and my body tenses, but as I always have with the others, I try not to alert him to the fact that I can sense him…that I can see him.
“It’s okay. You fought well, now rest.” I watch the large hand of the reaper come to rest on the warrior’s chest with his skin almost grazing my arm and I can feel the electricity humming between us, but I can tell by the way his hand jerks away that he’s affected by it too. I try to keep my head down, goddess do I try, but his sudden sharp inhale has my head snapping up and I meet the cold, hard gaze of the creature. This is not an ordinary reaper, I know that now. This is Death in the flesh. His hair is black as pitch, his eyes are like honey and his tanned skin is nothing like the ashen grey skin of the reapers I usually encounter. By all accounts, he's a handsome creature.
“How can you see me?” His voice is deep and velvety, but I don’t answer his question, choosing to make a request instead.
“Please...watch over them.” I release the warrior’s hand and walk out of the room to assist with the others, hoping we'll have better luck saving the other injured. By the end of the night, we lose a total of six wolves from the battle and with each one, I see Death lurking in the shadows, though he makes no further attempts to speak to me. I can't really blame him, I suppose. I'm sure speaking to me was rather disappointing for such a creature.
I finish out my shift, make sure the injured are settled for the night and then head home to my cottage on the outskirts of town. I moved away from town when I was rejected, opting to live my life in solitude over forcing myself to endure the looks of pity, judgement and sympathy from the rest of my pack. I'm an outcast and while they don't tell me as much with their words, I can see it in the way they look at me, how they avoid me at all costs unless they need medical care.
As soon as I enter my home, I decide to take a shower then throw on my sleep shorts and a t-shirt and grab a glass of wine before sitting on the bench in front of the window in my bedroom and staring at the darkness outside. It's times like these, in the stillness of the night, where the emptiness consumes me like a parasite, attaching itself to me as it sinks into my bones.
“You never answered my question, little wolf.” His voice should surprise me, but I scented him the moment he materialized in my room, a scent that reminds me of a campfire and cedar, not at all unpleasant, but definitely not how the reapers smell. The feeling his scent and his presence brings me is both delightful and unsettling all at once.
“I can see beyond the veil.” I hear his footsteps as he moves closer, but I don’t want to look at him, to remember the unwelcome feeling of him being close.
“How? I’ve never met anyone who could see me who was not dead or dying, so how can you?” I take a large drink of my wine and lean my head against the window, letting the cold glass soothe me. I should just shrug and dismiss his question, push him away before this situation gets any more confusing. I need to sever this connection between us, but I don’t know if I can.
“When I was a pup, I nearly died. I was stabbed with a silver blade by a hunter. They shouldn't have been able to, yet they were able to save me, but only barely. I told my mother I was seeing things, shadow people is what I called them then, but the healer said I was death touched and I’ve been able to see your reapers ever since. I even saw the one who was waiting to take me before the healer managed to save me.” Images of the hooded figure in the shadows of my room flash in my mind and remind me of how calm I had felt when he appeared. I had felt safe, at peace even.
“You’ve never interacted with the others.” I’m unsure if he’s asking or stating a fact, but I choose to answer anyway.
“No, I haven't.” I finally tilt my head to the side and allow myself to look at him, I mean really look at him. He’s unnaturally tall, muscular and he’s wearing black leather pants with a fitted black shirt topped off with a black trench coat with a hood that's currently not on his head.
“Why?” His curiosity is oddly fascinating to me. Perhaps it’s because he’s Death who has lived for more than a thousand lifetimes and yet he's seeking answers from me, a lowly wolf who’s lived only twenty years. It's hard to believe that someone like me could have answers that he doesn't already possess.
“I don’t know. I guess part of it's because I felt it would be wrong to. They never once interfered with my work, so why should I interfere in theirs?” He moves closer then surprises me by kneeling beside me, his honey eyes studying me as if the answers he seeks are written somewhere on my face and he can see them if only he looks hard enough.
“Is it out of fear? Were you afraid of what you might see?” I suppose it would make sense to be afraid of looking a reaper in the eye, but I was never once afraid in their presence and I’m oddly not fearful of this powerful being either. Maybe I’m finally completely losing my mind.
“No, I was never afraid.” His head tilts to the side and he seems genuinely confused by my answer.
“You're looking into the face of Death and you aren’t afraid?” I carefully swing my legs off the bench and sit up so that I’m completely facing him, letting him see my eyes and the truth that lies in them.
“No, I’m not afraid of you, Death, and I don't fear your reapers.” A small smirk forms on his lips as he continues to study me like some specimen under a microscope.
“Alright, little wolf. If you don’t fear Death, then what do you fear?” My brow furrows as I consider whether to answer truthfully or to give him what most would consider a more suitable answer, but lying to Death is probably not the best option and why should I bother? I have nothing to hide, not even from him. Before I can actually reach a decision, I open my mouth and the truth tumbles out before I can even try to stop it.
“Life. The thought that I'll have to live out my entire existence in the hell I’m stuck in, too dead inside to live, but to alive to die.” My hand flies up to cover my mouth, fearful of what might come out next. I can see by the gleam in his eyes that my inability to refrain from giving in was his doing.
“You're a curious creature, little wolf. I’ve never met a soul who fears life more than Death. Then again, I’ve never met a living being so far from deaths door who could see me either.” I down the rest of my glass of wine then set the glass on the bench beside me, unsure of how to respond to him or even how to act in his presence.
“Are you able to see when my time will end?” His eyes narrow slightly, but he eventually nods.
“I can, but I can't tell you when it'll be. There are rules that even Death must follow.” I take an unsteady breath and lean back against the window, finding comfort in the fact that my life has an expiration date, a date set in stone where my suffering will finally end.
“I don’t want to know when. When my time comes, will you be there?” My question seems to surprise him, but his expression quicklysoftens.
“You would want me there when your life ends? Why?” I shrug and let my eyes close, the memories of the faceless reaper from my childhood flash once more in my mind.
“It would be nice to see a familiar face.” I deliver my response with a smirk and my answer makes him smile, something I have a feeling he doesn’t do often.
“I’ll be with you, Lyra.” I nod and stand up, making my way to my bed.
“Thank you. I suppose I’ll see you around.” When I turn to look at him, he’s already gone.
In the days following his visit, I find myself thinking of him almost constantly. I can’t stop wondering if the way his scent affects me, the way his touch electrifies and awakens a part of me I had thought was long dead, is truly another cursed gift from the goddess or my mind playing tricks on me. What could I have done in my previous life to deserve such torment? Being rejected by one mate only to be given Death himself as my second chance? I only wish to live out my life in lonely misery, but perhaps that’s still an option. Maybe I just need to convince Death to reject me, to make him see what this bond is and show him it’s not worth it...show him that I'm not worth. Hell, it’s not like the Horseman of Death would want a simple, broke wolf for a mate anyway.
