BLYTHE SPENT THE NIGHT OF HER DEATH SURROUNDED BY THOSE SHE LOVED.

In the haze of her vision, she’d seen her cousin fending off the reaper more than once, and though she was glad for it, Blythe knew Signa’s efforts would soon be wasted.

She was not afraid. Her mother would be waiting for her, and Elijah would be well cared for. She knew deep within her weary bones that she needn’t worry. Aris would keep him safe.

Still, she mourned the loss of her father and the relationship she’d only just discovered. Who knew whether she’d return with her memories, or how long they might take to be found. Who knew the type of person she might become in her next life.

“Sylas.” Blythe summoned the attention of the gray-eyed reaper, who drew a cautious step closer. “Will I have any say in who I’m to become?”

His voice was a gentle caress of wind against her cheek, and it eased her body. “I haven’t the faintest clue. That’s your domain.”

She supposed it was. Perhaps when she died she would return with all the answers and the knowledge of her power. That, at least, would be a silver lining.

“I have seen reincarnations in many forms,” he continued after a beat, as if sensing her dissatisfaction with the answer. “Souls that return as a different sex. People who wish to spend their days lounging without a care in the world and end up returning as a common house cat. Everything in this world is connected by life and death. I have no doubt that you’ll be able to return as whoever you wish.”

Emotion swelled in her throat, and she was too weak to stop it. It was a relief when Aris arrived, appearing in a flash and taking two long strides toward her bed.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, bending to press a kiss to her forehead. “There was something that could not wait.”

Blythe had been waiting for him, refusing to let the calming quiet overtake her until he’d arrived. Now that he was here, she felt as if too much weight had settled onto her body. Like she’d been tossed into the ocean and left to sink.

“It’s time, Aris.” She hardly had a voice left, her tongue like cotton. Head wilting to the side, her pleading eyes caught Sylas’s. “I want you to take me now, before I become any worse.”

Was she mistaken, or did his eyes flicker to Signa?

“You are young, Blythe. You do not deserve this.” Aris’s voice may have been softened for her ears, but the word slammed against her like a current.

“No one deserves anything, Aris. We haven’t the time to—” Her argument was cut off with the swift press of his lips against hers. No matter how tired she was—no matter how much she wished to shut her eyes and fall into that endless sleep—for this she would always find the energy.

His palm was smooth against her cheek, deft fingers threading through her hair. Blythe made no move to pull away. The longer he kissed her, the more the image behind her eyelids began to shift, the silky blue petals of wisteria falling upon her like droplets of rain. She could see only those petals and a river of silver stars beneath her feet, the current dragging her in, ready to lay its claim on her.

Its beauty had her chest lightening; she could think of no better way to

go.

But then the heat of Aris’s lips was gone, and the river pulled her under.

She floated down it, cold and lost to the world as wisteria fell. Even among its beauty, she felt the claws of panic tearing through her.

Was she gone? Was this what death looked like?

In the distance, voice watery and nearly impossible to hear, Aris spoke to someone who was not her. She looked for him but saw nothing; he seemed another world away.

“She will not die,” he said as Blythe’s heart sank to the bottom of that river of stars. “You will take me and let her live.”

Blythe was a captive in this beautiful world that Aris had caged her within. She thrashed against its constraints, calling for him, screaming out so that he might see reason. But every attempted cry burned as the river pulled her under, singeing her throat. The wisteria had stretched its vines around her neck, holding as she clawed through the wisteria petals that obscured the water’s surface so that she could look at the true world he’d hidden from her.

As much as she fought, Blythe could not keep her eyes open for long. She saw only slivers of her husband, who had dropped to his knees before Sylas.

“Balance cannot be restored with a human soul,” Aris told him, not once looking away from the reaper. “But it can be restored with mine. Give her my years, brother. Give her all that I am, and save her.”

Blythe tried to scream, only for the river to fill her throat, sparing her no sound. Aris had promised not to use his powers on her. He had promised, and yet here she was unable to escape his hold.

She hated him. Hated how much she loved this fool of a husband, far too much to let him save her.

Signa had taken notice of Blythe’s silent plea for help, yet Signa’s face was pinched with determination, almost as if she had expected this. As if she’d been waiting for it. Signa’s jaw tightened, and she turned to avoid Blythe’s gaze.

Life’s heart was a fragile thing, fractured and tentatively mended by an apprentice’s hand. But in that moment, it shattered beyond repair.

“This was my fault to begin with,” Aris was saying. “I could tell you that I’m sorry, Sylas, but such words hold little weight. Let me prove it to you both. This will not change all the harm that I have caused, but let it be a start. Let her live.”

She prayed that Sylas would be selfish. That he would ignore Aris’s pleas, but Blythe sensed her defeat the moment Sylas’s shadows slunk to the corners as if to mourn. To weep.

“I will honor your request,” whispered the reaper, who lowered himself to one knee before his brother, slipping off his gloves. “But only if you swear to return to us someday.”

Aris glanced once more behind him and at Blythe before answering. And when he saw that her eyes were open, he smiled. There was a glow to

His skin glowed with a quiet happiness, making him more beautiful than Blythe had ever seen. “I do. I swear I will find you again.” He turned back to Sylas. “Both of you.” Head held high, Aris reached out to his brother, who grasped his hand with both of his own.

As the silver stars faded, the color drained from Aris’s skin. Petal by petal, the wisteria dissolved as his body slumped forward, lowered gently to the ground by the reaper’s touch. Blythe’s breath surged back into her lungs, a pulse of life so strong that the scream which had been building inside her finally escaped her throat. She scrambled to her feet, her legs trembling as she moved toward Aris.

But all that remained was the shell of a man who had once burned so brightly.

“What have you done?” Blythe demanded, her sobs shaking the earth. She collapsed beside him, cradling Aris’s head in her lap as the threads around them faded one by one. The magic that had filled the air seemed to vanish with his final breath, as if Chaos itself was standing over her, stripping away every ounce of hope and every dream Blythe had ever held.

But as she folded over him, lost in her tears and her aching, Aris was smiling. And to him, Blythe whispered, “You foolish man. What have you done?”