Page 301 of Venom Sweeter than Honey
I study him, internally deliberating whether or not I’d be dooming his mate by making their paths cross. Also...
“You’re unable to find them yourself?”
He shakes his head. “There is only one timeline I am unable to view or visit—my own. The only aspects of my future that I am able to see are the moments in which I stumble upon them by viewing someone else’s timelines.”
Gradually, I nod. Cautious, but hopeful that, somehow, some way... this tiny alteration in history might actually make a difference.
Tempus offers me a soft smile as he holds out his upturned palm, waiting. “I’ll fulfill my end of our agreement first. In good faith..."
Still I hesitate. Tempus huffs a laugh. “The last thing I want to do is make an enemy of a death god. Especially not when it comes to mysoulbound.” He nods in the direction of the ocean of time. “Nor do I wish to upset a goddess with command of tides and storms.”
Hm.
The fact I would regret not at least trying tips me over the line of hesitation. Lifting an upturned hand, déjà vu—or perhaps the feeling of rightness, of kismet—washes over me as I will Azrael’s golden pin between thumb and forefinger as my magic engravesmy anonymous message to him. In my periphery, I can see Lazarus’ lips part in awe and realization.
“Azrael told me that you revealed to him and Persephone why they could never be together... because it would be the end of the world as we know it.”
Lazarus’ gaze snaps from the pin to me.
The gold of the pin and the engraved words seem to glitter and gleam in confirmation.
“I want you to give this to him. After you show him the end of the world.”
A corner of Tempus’s mouth curls with excitement, and I’m not sure whether or not to be encouraged or fearful of it. “Oh, I do so love this particular arc of fate.”
I rear back. “There are others?”
His eyebrows hunker down as if I’ve asked an impossibly stupid question. “Always. They're happening now and for all eternity. Unfurling, collapsing, shrinking, and then blossoming again.”
Akash almighty, that gives me anxiety just thinking of it.
I shake my head as if it might dispel any otherarc of fatethat might be unfavorable to my future with mysoulbounds.
Tempus reaches for the pin, but I draw it away, trying to burn the gravitas of my words through my gaze and into him like a fucking laser.
“When you give him the pin, just tell him that it belongs to someone who loves him so much that he cannot escape, no matter how he tries. Not even in death. No matter what betrayal or manipulation he can concoct. Tell him that I am as inevitable to him as entropy. That no matter what fate has planned, he belongs to me and that I will find him. He just... needs to be patient.”
Lazaruss’ hand curls around mine, giving it a fierce squeeze. Tempus studies me for a moment, all masks having evaporated,replaced by a softness, and dare I say appreciation, that gives me hope this might actually work. After a few moments he gives me a nod of confirmation. “It would be my honor.”
Finally, I allow the pin to pass from my fingertips to his as Iwilla bit of my magic—and my love—into it, praying that it will somehow transcend time, space—and most of all, Azrael’s loneliness and despair.
AZRAEL
Ican’t find it in myself to be angry with Violette. I understand why she did it. I betrayed her by creating such a duplicitous vow in the first place, and if the roles were reversed, I would be willing to do whatever is necessary to prevent her annihilation.
Yet, here I am, about to betray her and Levi further.
My knuckles rap gently on Mors’ and Persephone’s front door as my heart drums a wild beat in my chest. Barking erupts from the other side of the door. Grief is swift to lance my heart as memories of my dearest friend return.
Cerberus.
The door swings open to reveal Mors and an exuberant great dane with a harlequin coat. The great dane brings a much-needed grin to my face.
That is until my eyes return to Mors and my brain can truly process what I’m seeing.
My grin flattens, replaced by lip-curling repulsion at Mors’ensemble:a backwards hat, sneakers, khaki cargo shorts, and a linen button-down shirt that isn’t even tailored—clearly two sizes too large at the waist, but tests the limits at his broad, muscled chest, shoulders, and biceps.
I am... aghast.
