Page 77 of Dante's Circle Reborn

The man blinked, and she wondered if she had been a little too blunt. He was a reaper, and she had screamed for a death. She didn’t want it to be hers.

“Eva.”

He whispered her name, repeating it as if he wanted to memorize the taste of it on his tongue.

Or perhaps she was looking too much into it.

“Did I pass out?”

She nodded. “Yes, after we both realized we’re mates.”

He blinked again and then sat up slowly, his gaze still on hers. “Are you always this blunt?”

“Yes. It usually startles people into telling me exactly what I need to know. So, what’s your name?”

“I don’t know. I had one at one point, but they took it.”

She nodded, understanding. Reapers didn’t have names at first, at least not the ones they were born with. The other reapers named them, gave them identities so they could collect souls. At least, that’s what she had read in some of the banshee tomes. “What name did they give you?”

The reaper’s eyes narrowed. “You know a lot for someone who is not of that realm.”

“I’m a banshee. I speak of death, I sing it, I scream it. Of course, I know a little bit about the end.”

“They call me Ashen.”

Ashen. The name fit him, but she knew it didn’t fit the man he had once been. Though, after death, it would make sense.

“Hello, Ashen. Like I said, I’m Eva. And, it appears we are mates.”

“Now you’re just trying to throw me off.” Ashen shook his head and then stood up, frowning. “You sang for your death. You didn’t scream.”

She stood then too, not wanting to feel so small next to him. But no matter what she did, she couldn’t really help it, the man was large. “You’re not going to kill me. You don’t get to.”

“I’m told a reaper doesn’t kill. They take a soul at the moment of death, but they don’t cause pain.”

Her eyes widened. “Really? I don’t really know exactly what happens with reapers. I only know what’s in the books.”

“Then you may know more than I do.”

She frowned. “Are you new to this, then?”

Ashen scowled, then looked down at the scythe on the ground before leaning down to pick it up. “You are my first. And, apparently, I’m not doing very well.”

“I’m sorry. I don’t want to die, though.”

“I’m not supposed to kill you. So perhaps this mission was to follow you and take your soul.”

A shiver slid over her, and she swallowed hard. “Even then, I’m going to fight.”

“You don’t have to fight me. I don’t want to kill you.”

“Because we’re mates?”

“That’s a large part of it,” he said, not laughing, his voice deadpan. “I don’t want to kill at all. But I don’t think I have a choice.”

“I don’t know what’s going to happen, but I’m not going to let you hurt my family.”

“I’m not here for your family, I’m here for you.”

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