“What did you want to talk about?” she asks, trying to divert the pull between us.
“About this journey and what it really means.” This chases the desire from her gaze and I bite the inside of my cheek to keep my disappointment in check.
Briar leans away from me to clear her head and it clears mine as well. Having her near is dangerous, but I want more. I shake my head to dislodge those thoughts and clear my throat. “Remember how I told you once before that the laws of inheritance are different now, that it’s no longer determined by blood?”
“I remember,” she nods.
“Well, while the title and the throne come with the inheritance, there’s something else that bestows the true powers of Death to the ruler of the underworld. I’m a god, yes, but Drogaem’s crown is where the true power of this realm lies.” I watch her reaction.
Briar sits up straighter. “What do you mean?”
I purse my lips, breaking the deep breath I take in, trying not to get caught in the gentle waft of her sweet and succulent scent. “After Lux killed Drogaem, there was no blood heir to his throne. The laws of inheritance had to be changed, but those who inherited his place as Death were much weaker.”
Her brow furrows and that little pout returns. “I don’t think you’re weak, Kane.”
I toss my head back and laugh, but I keep my smile firmly on my face so she knows I’m not laughing at her but myself. “If you could have seen Drogaem then you would know real strength. I’m nothing compared to him, Briar. But I’m glad you think so highly of me.”
She turns her head, looking out at the water with a stern expression. “I said I wanted to be your wife and I meant it.”
For some reason her words fill me up with so much pride that it eclipses even the moment when I first inherited my place as Death. The feeling is unexpected and it takes me a moment to gather myself. Briar notices, but says nothing.
“But Drogaem could pull mountains from the earth and kill hundreds of thousands in a single breath,” I tell her. “He was unmatched through the ages. Everyone feared him. He commanded legions.”
“Legions of Nephilim.” She shudders, the scent of her fear strong in the small space between us.
Her pain twists in my chest and I brush my thumb over her lower lip. “It’s power, Briar. The more power, the better. Especially in the underworld.”
“I don’t think it’s the amount of power, but how it’s used. Whether it’s for good or for evil, true power is revealed through the smaller actions, the intricate details more than the grand gestures,” Briar supposes. “If Drogaem always ruled with an iron fist, there must have been a different reason Lux killed him. He had to have been evil, but why Lux and not one of the other Gods? And why only then?”
Her questions spark my own curiosity. The records of the past are constantly updating, so it’s possible that there’s more to Lux and Drogaem’s story than any of us are aware. Only Death and his goddess can ever tell us the entirety of their tale. Briar’s brilliant smile catches my attention.
“What?” I ask. “Why are you smiling all of a sudden?”
“You frown when you’re thinking. And your right eyebrow slowly begins to lift if you think you’ve had a particularly brilliant idea.” Her observations render me silent, which causes her to giggle to herself. “But I like it best when you’re intrigued.”
Her smile makes me smile. “And why is that?”
“Because the corners of your mouth twitch and you get this sly grin that makes me think things I shouldn’t,” she confesses, looking down at her hands with red cheeks.
I palm the back of her head and tug her closer. Briar’s eyes stay locked on mine until the last second. The first touch of my lips and she melts against me like hot butter. My other hand grips her glorious ass and I lift her onto my lap. Her trouser clad thighs straddle my legs as she settles against my chest.
My fingers tangle in her hair, pulling lightly on the strands, causing my innocent little bride to arch against me. Her hips begin to move like she had done in our dream and I groan into our kiss. The vibrations connect us as much as our lips do. She tastes of the tea she packed in her bag, that was abandoned when the Reaper souls appeared, and that sweetness that makes my eyes roll into the back of my head. Briar sucks my tongue experimentally and my eyes fly open. She leans away from me and I feel the need to toss her onto the ground and sheath myself in her heat. The scent of her arousal reaches my nose, and unsavory thoughts race through my mind.
“Kane. Willem,” she pants as she slides off my lap and returns to her place at my side.
It’s where she belongs. I already miss her heat and the slight weight of her in my arms. My Briar feels like home. Not that I know what a home -a real home- feels like, but I imagine it’s full of warmth and so much affection that the walls bend outward.
Willem returns, wearing his clothing once more, and sits across from us. His eyes lift and I see the flames flickering among the blue in his gaze. Never before has the Reaper souls affected Willem so much. Now that I think of it, his behavior has grown increasing odd with each step we take toward the Archech.
Briar leans against my shoulder and I kiss the top of her head. “So, we’re going to retrieve the