“Or destroy one,” I muttered, understanding where Ray was going with this.
“Exactly. Do you want to be the reason that Belial causes an apocalypse?”
I scowled at him. “Adela was right, you are an asshole.”
“I’ve never proclaimed to be anything else. You need to go back.”
A gasp of breath, raw and agonising ripped through my chest. “But what about Byron? I can’t do this without him.”
“Fucking soul bounds, honestly, you’re worse than fated mates. Look, I’ll tell you where Byron is in exchange for something.”
I eyed him warily. I was already tied to his brother in a deal, was I willing to tie myself into another one. “What?”
“I want your agreement with Terence.”
My eyebrows shot to my hairline. “Come again.”
He rolled his eyes at me and I was so tempted to punch his face. “Terence and I haven’t spoken for nearly a millennia. He didn’t even invite me to his wedding. I want to talk to him and if you hand over the deal you made with him, he’ll have to speak to me.”
Families are so fucking weird but that was a deal I would happily make. I’d get Byron back and I wouldn’t be beholden to a Memory Wraith. Win-win for me. “Deal. Now how do I get Byron back?”
Ray’s eyes gleamed with mischief. “He’s not crossed over.”
“What?” Hope sparked in my chest, fragile and desperate to burn.
He pointed to a fancy little boat—sorry,yacht—that was moored at a little dock. “He’s waiting for you.”
“What? How?”
“Wilder, what you two have is rare. He’s refusing to die because he doesn’t want to be parted from you. He’s very demanding. And aggressive.”
I laughed and cried and oh, how bright that flame of hope burnt in my chest. I threw my arms around Ray, fully aware that I was hugging Death—weird—and jumped to my feet, racing to the boat and towards my man.
Hold on, Byron. I’m coming.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Byron
Igasped, deeply and sharply. My body jerked and my limbs spasmed as life flowed back into my limbs.
I wasn’t dead.
How wasn’t I dead?
Holy fuck, my chest hurt.
I looked down.
Ah, fuck.I shouldn’t have looked down.
There was a massive blood stain seeping through the material, and it was sticky against my skin. There was way too much blood here. This wound should have been fatal, but it wasn’t but fuck it hurt to breathe.
I hauled myself up to a sitting position, my eyes scanning the chaos for Wilder. Where was he?
Manic laughter assaulted my eardrums, and I looked to my left where the King had Wilder pinned in his grasp.
“No!” I yelled, staggering to my feet. The world span as I righted myself, but I pushed through it. I had to get there, had to save him.