Page 130 of Reaper's Ruin
I trust you.
As the Reapers formed a tight circle around us, preparing to transport us back to the Umbral Keep, I kept my face an impassive mask. But beneath it, my mind whirled with possibilities, with plans, with desperate hopes.
I would not let them reap her. Not the Enforcers, not the Veil Lords themselves. If she was going to leave me, it would be through her own door, on her own terms, to the peace she deserved—not ripped into oblivion by their scythes.
I had failed to save humanity once.
I would not fail to save her.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Soraya
I could still feel the phantom sensation of Rhyker’s touch on my skin, could still taste his kiss on my lips. His declaration of love echoed in my mind, a lifeline I clung to as terror threatened to drown me.
I had no idea what he’d said to Sevrin, but whatever it was had bought us some time. It only took one look for me to understand he had a plan, and I would do my best to play along with whatever it was. Those eyes—fierce, desperate, pleading with me to play along. And I did. I knew he was trying to buy us time, to find a way out of this nightmare.
But time for what? What could possibly save us now?
The Reapers surrounded us in a tight formation, their black cloaks billowing around them. I risked a glance at Rhyker, walking beside me with his head held high, his face an impassive mask. Only I could see the storm raging behind those gray eyes, the calculations, the desperate plans forming and discarding with each step. Terror clawed at my insides. If they reaped me now, it wouldn’t just mean the end of me.
It would mean the end ofus.
The Reaper holding me grabbed me tight, and with awhooshI was somewhere else entirely. The other Reapers and Rhyker all materialized beside us in an instant, his eyes snapping to me instantly. And there, looming in front of me like something from a nightmare, stood what could only be the Umbral Keep.
My breath caught in my throat at the sight of it.
Calling it a castle would be like calling a hurricane a breeze. It was a monstrosity of black stone that seemed to devour what little light existed in this realm. Twisted spires reached upward like claws trying to tear at the perpetual twilight sky, each one adorned with grotesque gargoyles that appeared far too lifelike. I half expected them to snarl as we approached.
“Welcome to your new home,” the Reaper holding me sneered. “For the next few minutes, anyway. Then it’s oblivion for you.”
I forced myself not to react, not to show the bone-deep fear his words stirred in me. Instead, I straightened my spine and lifted my chin, channeling every ounce of defiance I could muster.
We approached the massive gates that stood at least thirty feet high, carved from some black material that seemed to absorb light rather than reflect it. Scenes of death and suffering had been etched into its surface—souls being reaped, doors appearing, others being dragged down into what looked like hell itself.
The gates swung open silently as we approached, revealing a courtyard teeming with more Reapers than I could count. Most of their faces were obscured by hoods, their bodies seeming to blend into the shadows around them. Some though, I could see their faces. They looked... normal. Like regular fae. Men, women, different skin colors, different hair colors, different sizes.
But there was nothing normal about the way they watched me like prey.
The weight of their stares pressed down on me like a physical thing. I could feel their curiosity, their hunger, their anticipation. Was this entertaining for them? The spectacle of Death himself being marched through their midst with a soul he’d failed to reap?
I glanced at Rhyker, desperate to hear his voice, to have some connection to him in this sea of hostility. To ask him about thisplace and hear the comfort in his words that everything would be okay.
But he kept his eyes straight ahead, his jaw tight as he marched with me toward the castle ahead. He looked cold. Calculating. The Reaper I’d met not long ago. But there, inside his eyes I could see it.
Fear.
But so carefully concealed that only I, who knew him better than anyone, could detect it. It sent a chill through me. If Rhyker was afraid, then the situation was even more dire than I’d imagined.
We were led through a series of corridors, each darker and more oppressive than the last. The stone beneath our feet was polished to a mirror shine, reflecting distorted versions of ourselves as we walked. Torches lined the walls, but their flames burned an unnatural violet-black, casting more shadows than light.
The air grew colder as we descended deeper into the Keep, the silence broken only by the echoing of our footsteps. I lost all sense of direction, of time, as we wound through this labyrinth of darkness.
Finally, we reached a set of towering black doors, so tall I had to crane my neck to see the symbols glowing above them.
“Welcome to the Soul Sanctum,” the Reaper holding me whispered, his voice tinged with contempt. “Time for you to meet the Veil Lords.”
The doors swung open with an ominous groan, revealing a cavernous chamber beyond. The Reaper shoved me forward, and I stumbled into the room, my eyes adjusting quickly to the change in light.
