Page 21 of Reaper's Ruin
“You’re real,” I whispered, keeping my eyes closed as instructed but hyperaware of every point of contact between us.
He didn’t respond immediately, but his grip tightened almost imperceptibly.
“Keep your eyes closed. Ready?”
I nodded, though I wasn’t ready at all. How could anyone be ready for something like this?
There was a sharp tug, then a strange shifting sensation, like the world tilting sideways for a moment, and then the sounds of the marketplace muffled, as if someone had thrown a heavy blanket over everything. The air changed too—cooler, with a faint electric charge that made the tiny hairs on my arms stand up.
“You can look now,” Rhyker said.
I opened my eyes, and my world tilted all over again.
First, there was Rhyker. Without the misty veil separating us, I could see him clearly for the first time, and the sight stole my breath. If I’d thought him beautiful before, it was nothing compared to this unobstructed view. His features were impossibly perfect—sharp cheekbones that could cut glass, a strong jaw darkened with just the right amount of stubble, full lips that pinched tight as he stared at me with those eyes.
Those eyes... god, his eyes. Before, they’d been striking. Now, they were more like a force, pulling me under, daring me to drown. Otherworldly with those storm-gray irises almost seeming to swirl with shadows, like watching clouds gather before lightning strikes.
He wasn’t just handsome—he was breathtaking. Dangerous. Deadly. Terrifying. Death incarnate, and somehow that made him all the more mesmerizing.
Catching myself staring, I quickly looked around at our surroundings.
We were still in the marketplace, but everything had changed. The vibrant colors were gone, replaced by muted shades of grayand blue. The stalls, the goods, the people—they were all still there, but looked like faded photographs, their edges blurred and insubstantial. It was like someone had drained all the life and color from the world, leaving behind only shadows and whispers.
“Oh my God,” I breathed, turning in a slow circle. “It’s like... it’s like those old movies before technicolor. Everything’s just...” I gestured helplessly, not sure how to describe it.
“I don’t know what technicolor is,” Rhyker said, “but this is the Shadowveil. It mirrors the realms of the living but exists between them.”
“It’s like a photo negative of reality,” I said, still trying to process what I was seeing.
Everything looked drained of life.
Just like me.
“So this is where you live? This gray, in-between place?”
“It’s home,” he said simply, though something in his tone suggested it was anything but.
I looked around nervously. “You said other Reapers live here too? Will they see me?”
“No,” he assured me. “There are no other Reapers around us now. They are at the Umbral Keep or off on their own missions.”
“So we’re safe here.”
“For now.”
“And here is a mirror world of there? And Reapers can’t touch me in that world unless it’s through a dark shadow, but now that I’m in the Shadowveil with you, you can touch me?” My cheeks warming as I thought about his skin on mine when he’d taken my hand.
“Yes,” he said simply. Something shifted in his expression, his eyes darkening slightly as he looked down at me. I suddenly became intensely aware of how close we were, of the solid strength of him in front of me. Of how undeniably, impossibly beautiful he was upclose—that face, masculine and powerful yet somehow beautiful, framed by his black hair falling in waves around it. He looked like a painting in a museum of an avenging angel I would have stood in front of and stared at for hours.
This was a Reaper. This was the being sent to erase me from existence.
And yet I couldn’t stop staring at him like a star struck teenager at a boy band concert.
I was definitely losing it.
I stepped back hastily, putting some distance between us. He remained rigid, though I thought I saw something flicker in his eyes before his expression shuttered again.
“So, what now?” I asked, desperate to fill the awkward silence.
