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Death (The Four Horsemen #4)(33)

Author:Laura Thalassa

And then the pole is gone and I am free.

Death sits down heavily on the ground, clutching me tightly against him.

I twist my head to the side as I dry heave over and over again, the agony nauseating. And then I cry—I sob—the action doing nothing to alleviate the unbearable pain. I might be free, but my body feels ruined.

Everything hurts so goddamned bad.

“I’ve got you, Lazarus, my Lazarus,” Thanatos murmurs.

In this moment, his words are oddly comforting. I turn my head towards his chest and cry against his armor.

He holds me through the tears.

“It hurts,” I sob. It’s almost ridiculous to admit this to my foe, the one who has hurt me over and over again. Even more ridiculous that he’s the one holding me at the moment.

But he doesn’t seem to mind, and maybe that’s the strangest thing of all.

Death’s hand comes up to my cheek, his palm warm against me. That seems to drive away this pitiful mood of mine.

I try to pull away.

“Be still,” he commands, and for whatever reason, I listen.

His face is solemn as he takes me in. He draws in a deep breath, still staring at me.

Before I can fidget under the scrutiny, my skin begins to tingle. The sensation makes my body feel antsy, restless, like I need to get up and move about. The gaping wound in my abdomen feels warm—and … itchy.

“What are you doing?” I gasp out.

“Healing you.”

Healing me?

“You can do that?” I say, still half distracted by the slew of sensations coursing through me.

I thought he only knew how to kill.

Though his face is as solemn as ever, his eyes seem to smile when he looks at me. “I can do many things, Lazarus.”

Why would Death be given the power to heal? And on that subject—

“Why are you healing me?”

He doesn’t answer, just tightens his jaw and concentrates on my stomach.

My gaze returns to that strange couple on his armor. Now I do reach out and trace a finger over what I can see of the skeleton.

Thanatos’s gaze drops to my finger.

“Death and life, caught in an eternal embrace,” he explains.

“They look like lovers,” I whisper.

“They are lovers.” His eyes find mine, and I swear they can see straight to my soul.

I swallow delicately, dropping my hand. His own hand still clasps my cheek, and now I really can feel my flesh stitching itself back together.

“What are you going to do with me?” I ask. “Once you heal me?”

His jaw tightens just the slightest. “I have respected you, Lazarus,” he says, staring intently down at me. “Since that first time you came for me, I’ve respected you. I understand placing duty before all else.”

His expression shifts, heat blazing in his eyes. “But things have changed.”

“What are you talking about?” I ask, even as the warm, tingling sensation presses against the underside of my skin, continuing to heal my many wounds.

His fingers trail down from my cheek, one of them tracing my lips. “I think you know.”

I want to lose myself in you, his eyes seem to say.

I suck in a breath.

“I’m not going with you,” I say.

“Oh, but you are.”

I stare up at him for a moment longer, and then, all at once, I’m dragging myself out of his arms and away from his healing touch. And despite his words, the horseman does let me go.

I have to bite back a curse at how much everything still aches.

I stagger to my feet.

Across from me, Death’s eyes burn. “You’re still hurt,” he says softly. “Wounded and weak and aching for my touch.”

“No,” I breathe, the words barely audible.

Slowly, Thanatos stands, his gaze fixed on me. He’s never looked at me with such intensity. Not when he hurt me, not when he killed me, and not when I did the same to him.

No, this ferocity seems to be driven by a different—deeper—emotion than anger.

“Return to me, kismet. Let me heal those wounds and soothe that ache.”

The guttural way he says ache … I’m no longer thinking about my wounds.

I shake my head and back up.

Death’s wings spread wide. He takes one ominous step towards me, that look still in his eyes.

That’s all it takes for me to turn on my heel and flee. I’ve run from the horseman before. Today is no different.

Only it is.

I’m tripping over debris, huffing from the pain, but I eventually stumble out of the partially collapsed building.

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