Page 93 of A Bond in Flames

I didn’t need to search the room; I knew exactly where he was. He was on the bed, draped in his cloak, unmoving.

Biting my lip, I moved to his side. “I’m here. I’ve come back to you,” I choked out.

Nothing.

“Mors.”

His cloak swirled.

“Please, look at me.”

Slowly, he lifted his head, then turned to me.

His hood slipped back, and I swallowed down a cry of agony. His face was skin stretched over bone. There was barely anything left of him.

Then he opened his mouth and roared.

CHAPTER30

Zinnia

The forceof his rage had me cowering, his roar so loud, the windows rattled. The sounds of the forest went silent.

He stared blindly ahead, not seeing me, so lost in his despair and rage, he saw nothing else.

“It’s me, Zinnia… your Stella,” I choked out. “Mors, it’s me.”

He blinked, his gaze clearing just for a moment.

I cupped his skeletal face. “I came back.”

One of his hands snapped out, and he caught me by the throat, his face contorting. “You left,” he said, his voice rolling through the room like thunder, lifting the hair on the back of my neck.

I shook my head. “I’m right here. Your beloved. Look at me, please. I’m right here.”

He snarled, his head moving in an odd way before he lurched forward, yanked me onto the bed, and shoved me down. I lay still while he loomed over me, searching my face, his features contorted in rage. “Stupid little witch,” he said in a voice that sent ice down my spine. “You should never have come back here, because I will never let you leave. Whatever deal we had is void.” There was nothing but rage in his voice.

He had completely reverted to the male he was when I first came here—I felt it—but worse. He was so hollow, like a husk of himself. Mors was buried deep beneath the surface, and Death was fully in the driver seat.

I reached up to touch his face again. “Mors—”

“Do not call me that,” he snarled. “I am the God of Death.”

“And I am your consort,” I said softy. “Yours.”

He shook his head. “You never came back.”

“I did. I’m right here. You have to believe me. I came back, but—”

One moment, he was looming over me; the next, he was up, hauling me off the bed. He slammed open the door, dragged me down the hall and into my old room. “Stay out of my way.” He shoved me inside and walked away, leaving me to be forgotten like the others, so deep in the cloak, so deep in denial.

I wasn’t giving up; I would bring him back. He said he’d let the cloak take him if I left, but the darkness and shadows couldn’t have him. He was mine.

I grabbed the dresser to hold myself up, a rush of dizziness making my limbs weak.

“My lady?”

Egon stood at the door, his face etched in concern. I held up my hand. “I’ve lost some blood. How good are you with a needle and thread?”

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