Page 101 of Till Death and Daisies Bloom

Pride’s jaw flexed. “Yes.”

“Like a key turning in a lock I didn’t know I’d been chained in.”

He gave a slight nod. “Something old. Something true.”

We were quiet for a long moment, the garden bathed in silver light.

“I don’t know who I am around her,” I said finally, the admission burning more than the drink. “Lust usually knows what to do. What to say. But Juniper makes me want things I’m not supposed to.”

“Like being enough,” Pride said quietly.

And there it was. The truth behind the smirk, laid bare like bone. I hated him for knowing me that well. And I hated myself for letting Wrath make it real.

“She's not going to choose,” I muttered.

Pride raised an eyebrow. “Choose?”

“One of us.”

“No,” he agreed. “She’ll chooseallof us. That’s the danger.”

And maybe...the hope.

I foundher the next morning in the garden, barefoot in the dew-wet grass, her fingers brushing the edges of the herbs she’d planted days ago.

And she was wearing my shirt.

That part was particularly vexing.

I’d recognize that dark gray button-down anywhere—soft cotton, a little too loose in the shoulders, clinging just enough to hint at curves I was trying very, very hard not to imagine all at once. It hung open at the collar, slipping lower with every step she took like temptation itself had grown legs and decided to make eye contact. I tossed that shirt in the laundry pile twodays ago. It still carried my scent. And now she was wrapped in it, sleeves rolled and damp from mist, her hair a wild halo that made her look more celestial than wrathful. More myth than mortal.

“I’m not supposed to be here,” she said without looking up.

“You mean the garden?” I asked.

“I mean this life.”

I sank down beside her in the grass, ignoring the way my tailored pants would wrinkle.

“None of us were supposed to be anything. We’re sins, remember? Everything is entirely up to us.”

She finally looked at me, her expression naked and open. I hadn’t realized how often she’d been putting on a brave mask until I saw her now without one.

“It’s unnerving,” she said softly.

“That’s fair.”

“You comfort me too,” she admitted.

Ah ha!

I smiled, crooked and real, even as my heart skipped a beat. “Don’t tease me.”

She reached out, fingers brushing mine. “And I don’t know what I feel when I’m around you. Or anyone else, really.

“Don’t decide yet,” I said simply. “You don’t have to. I’m not here to claim you, Wrath. We’re here to serve you.”

She snorted, but her eyes shimmered with heat and confusion. “Why me?”

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