Chapter 48

“You have courage, Princess,” the God of Death says, taking a moment to look me over.

As he does a streak of blue flies past him into the darkness of the terrace and I take a deep breath, reaching for Anton’s fur as he dashes to my side, twining my fingers in his blue light even as I don’t look down, keeping my eyes precisely where they are. Relief floods me to have him close – my friend, my Goddess-sent protector.

I mean, he’s still incorporeal and I don’t know what he could do against a God. But it’s nice to have him near.

The God of Death flicks his eyes down over Anton and frowns deeply, clearly not liking his presence. But then he returns his gaze to my face, letting both of us know that my handmaid is not worthy of comment or further attention. Or, at least, that’s what he wants us to think.

“You will want to watch yourself going forward, Princess,” the God says, stepping towards me so that he looms over me. But I just sigh and tilt my head back because this is nothing new – I am the shortest person in a family full of Alphas. All I do is look up.

“My apologies,” I say, my words as dry as a salt flat. “If I’ve made trouble for you, sir.”

“You make a mockery of my Game,” he continues, stepping forward, reaching out and tucking a stray curl of my hair back behind my ear, fatherly and precise. “And you risk throwing it into disorder. I won’t have that, girl. There’s more here at stake than what you know.”

“My life is at stake,” I snap, glaring up at him. “And if you expect me to passively allow those wraiths to rip my soul from my body, then you’ve picked the wrong girl.”

“The wrong girl,” the God says, contemplative, turning his own head to the side, turning over the words in a calm, considered way that makes my stomach turn with dread. “Or just…the wrong Sinclair?”

My lips part in horror and confusion because…what?

“You were not destined for this game, Juniper,” the God says, leaning closer to me, speaking softly like he’s sharing a secret, so like his son, though my wolf does nothing now except fasten her claws sharp in my soul and bare her teeth. “Your elder sister was marked for it, even given a dark gift at birth that would have made her a perfect Underworld queen.”

My mind spins, thinking of Ariel, the perfect sunshine princess. A dark gift? Her?

“But,” Death straightens slightly and gives a casual shrug, looking out and away over the wasteland. “Your Grandmother had other ideas about the timing by which Ariel would find her mates. And so we went to the…what’s the word you might use in your world? The backup? The spare? The…second choice?”

He returns his eyes to me, smirking a little, as if he knows those were the words I’ve had churning in my mind my entire life, needling me, making me feel inferior.

But somehow, from his lips?

Pride races through me.

Good. Good.

No part of me wants Ariel here at all. She’s too good, too sweet and kind for this place. Me? I don’t mind baring my teeth. I’ll tear it to pieces if I can.

“No,” Death snaps, drawing my focus back to him, seeing that his gaze has dropped to my mouth. “You put those little fangs away.”

I press my lips shut, clenching my teeth, frustrated with myself for being unaware that I did let my canines elongate as they do so often when I’m riled. Damn it, I didn’t want to show my cards like that – didn’t want him to see how emotional I get when my sister’s name is in his mouth.

“Good girl,” the God murmurs, condescending, and I take a slow, deep breath, determined to keep my cool. “Now you keep those little fangs away and play this game like the demure Princess you should be.”

He begins to turn now and I tuck my hands behind my back, my nails pressed so tight to my palms that I wouldn’t be surprised to feel blood trickling from my fists.

“Or else,” Death continues, perfectly casual, glancing at me over his shoulder. “There are…others in your line that could take your place in this Game. Are there not?”

I gasp, taking a horrified step towards him, my teeth flashing. But no – he can’t mean –

“Rose?” he calls, almost off-hand, curious. “Is that the name of the next female cousin in your line? Also goddess-born? And then Bella? And then…Serphina?”

A horrible, strangled cry breaks from me as I hurl myself after him, my nails extended to claws – ready to tear –

But he just laughs at me, barely visible as he fades from view. “Careful, little wolf,” he says, the God’s words echoing in the air even as he disappears. “Play the Game. You are replaceable.”

I pant, horrified, looking everywhere for him, a sob breaking from my throat as I contemplate this horrible threat. Any of them – any of our three youngest girls, the most precious – here, in this terrible place – facing him, facing this horrible game – and the wraiths, coming down from the ceiling, for one of them –

I begin to hyperventilate, in a complete panic as I stare at the floor.

Suddenly, my vision floods with blue. “Hey!” Anton snaps, in his human form before me, his hands pressed to my cheeks. “Over here, all right?”

He can’t pull me – obviously – but he moves towards to a corner where we can’t be seen and I go with him. Anton tucks himself away against the stone and folds me into his arms. I sob into the insubstantial tingle of starlight that I know is him, burying my face in my hands.

“That’s not going to happen, all right, June?” Anton says, his voice rough and angry but calming to me in its rage. Because I know his anger not for me – no, he just shares my wrath for that heartless God who has threatened my tiny, sweet cousins.

Still, I shake my head, unable to stop crying. Unable to stop thinking about it.

“It’s okay,” Anton says, quite soft, stroking his hands over my hair again and again. But still I sob into my hands, losing myself to it, trying to get myself together again and again and completely failing. At some point Anton snarls at someone to go away, but I barely notice, too lost to care. When I pick my face up a few minutes later, I wonder if I imagined it.

“There she is,” Anton murmurs, peering down into my face, his own devastated.

“I didn’t know,” I say, shaking all over, looking mournfully up into his face. “I didn’t know that all the stupid things I was doing – being such a brat – would put them at risk.”

“You couldn’t know, June,” Anton murmurs, comforting, his hands cupping my cheeks, his thumbs working to wipe my tears away. Failing, of course, but…well, the thought is nice. “And honestly, I think he might be trying to scare you.”

“What?” I breathe, staring up into his eyes.

“We’ll have to find someone to ask,” Anton sighs, shaking his head. “I can’t know for sure. But…if he was going to replace you, baby bat, wouldn’t he just do it? Doesn’t it make more sense that he would find the one thing that could scare you into good behavior and wield it like a sledgehammer?”

A small, tremulous smile comes to my lips. “Baby bat?”

Anton laughs, blinking in surprise that that’s the thing I concentrated on in that comment.

“Yes,” he murmurs, smiling softly at me, stroking his hands fondly over my hair. “That’s you, after all. A little demon bat, so vicious and so small. All fangs and soft black fur.”

I laugh, shakily and uneven, but unable to help it. “Oh my god, Anton. That’s so stupid.”

“Yeah, I know.” He whispers. “But I like it. I think it fits.”

“I like it too,” I whisper. Then I sigh, ducking my head, trying to lean it against his chest and utterly failing, stumbling forward. So I just stand as close to him as I can, taking peace in his steady, calm presence.

After a few minutes, after I take a long deep breath, I look up into Anton’s face.

“What do you think, baby bat?” he murmurs. “Want to go back to our room? Have a bunch of wine and forget tonight ever happened?”

I groan, letting my eyes shut, tilting my head back. “Yes,” I murmur. “That sounds amazing.”

“You call the Herald,” he says, looking towards the room. “I’ll go get Laila so you can say goodbye.”

Anton walks away, heading inside to find our friend.

And as he goes, I wonder why the hell I wanted to come out here on the terrace with Orion in the first place. Why I had any urge at all, ever, to leave Anton’s side for even a single god damn minute.