Page 8 of Love and Death
I cannot help the way my heart leaps within my chest at the thought.
Perhaps, there is still hope to be found. Though, what exactly that hope might be, I do not know.
Even if Eros managed to escape, and isn’t confined to the very bowels of the king’s palace, what can he do? Without Death, how can I possibly expect him to save me from Hades’ clutches, never mind the Underworld, alone?
Unless …
Maybe, just maybe, he wouldn’t have to …ifI can convince Cerberus to help us. Despite everything that’s happened since, he did come to me before the trial started to seek forgiveness for not protecting me better.
Could it be possible that he still feels the same way?
Death trusted him once; maybe we can do so again, given the right circumstances.
Unless it was all a ruse in the first place, though, to what end, I cannot say.
Cautiously, I steal a glance up at my captor. His jaw remains hard, and his gaze trained ever-forward, refusing to be drawn toward my own.
I cannot make heads nor tails of him, let alone what his true intentions may be. One moment, he is clawing at doors and begging for my forgiveness, and the next … he seems hell-bent on obeying the king’s orders.
Orders that included delivering my father’s soul to the very man who would use it against me.
How can I possibly be expected to trust this man, let aloneforgivehim?
I am instantly struck to my core by the bitterness in this thought, my mother’s dying wish sending a pang of anguish through my chest.
Is this the kind of person I have become? One who doesn’t allow for error or explanations? Have I truly grown so cold and unforgiving in such a short time?
No, I refuse to be like that.
I made that mistake once already, when I chose not to listen. When I turned my back on Death ... When I decided it was easier to believe in his betrayal than the possibility that he ever loved me.
I chose to harden my heart against what should have been my better judgment. Now, look where that's gotten me, and worse, what it's cost the one being who loved me more than life itself.
Guilt settles weightily in the pit of my stomach, shame burning hot within me as I recall just how quickly I turned on Death … and, in truth, on love.
I will not, cannot, allow myself to be shaped into such an ugly creature of bitterness again. I must hold true to the example my parents set for me long ago, despite the pain life wrought upon us.
I must remember to listen, to be slow to anger, and to be quick to forgive. To once again try to find the good in those around me, and act in kindness.
If I could spend so many years enduring Amadeusand my stepmother and still remain soft to the world, then I can find it in my heart to do so again.
I will try my best to honor my mother and Death in this way, come what may … starting with Cerberus.
Ifforgiveness is what he wants, then I must give him a chance to make amends. Though, admittedly, I do not yet know how.
Maybe, if I can get a moment alone with him, Cerberus might be persuaded—
Before I can finish this thought, my toe catches on the edge of a stone, sending me lurching forward with a startled cry. I close my eyes, instinctively reaching out with a free hand to protect my fall as I brace for the inevitable crack of my knees against the ground.
But it never comes.
Instead, I feel the world spin around me before coming to an abrupt halt.
Cautiously, I open my eyes to find myself held fast, braced against Cerberus’ body—the hellhound’s powerful arms cradling me gently to him—as if he’s just dipped me in a dance rather than saved me from absentminded clumsiness.
I risk a furtive glance up at him and am taken aback by the concern that worries his brow, only to blink and find his expression even stonier than before. Cerberus looks away as he quickly rights me, and I frown up at him, wondering if I imagined his concern out of sheer desperation.
No, I refuse to believe that. At least, not until I’ve given him a chance to prove otherwise. I have to remain hopeful for now, as foolish as that may seem.
