Page 154 of A Kingdom of Wild and Power
‘You shouldn’t go alone,’ Zagreus said, his tone sharper than before.
Thanatos stepped closer at once, ready to follow her into the abyss, but Mal shook her head. ‘I do this alone. I need you to keep Persephone distracted.’
Zagreus gave a careless shrug, as though he had already done more than enough by allowing her passage. He had warned her. He had set his condition. What followed was no longer his concern.
A sudden warmth brushed against Mal’s side. Wren padded forward and sat firmly beside her, tail sweeping the black stone in slow, determined strokes.
‘I don’t think that’s wise, Wren,’ Mal warned gently. ‘I’m not certain wolves are meant to walk into Hell.’
Wren ignored her entirely.
Mal bit her lip and glanced back at Zagreus and Thanatos, who were now exchanging wary, uncertain looks.
‘Can she come?’ Mal asked tentatively.
Thanatos hesitated. ‘I don’t know what would happen.’
‘She ought to stay here,’ Zagreus insisted, motioning for Wren to return to him. Worry darkened his mismatched eyes. But Wren merely squared her broad shoulders and remained planted at Mal’s side, resolute as a sentinel carved from bone and snow.
‘I think she’s decided,’ Mal said softly, a small flicker of relief warming her chest at the thought of not descending alone.
Zagreus’ jaw tightened. ‘If something happens to her—’
Thanatos stepped forward and shoved him aside with little ceremony. ‘It is time you left. Go back to your duties.’
Rage flared in Zagreus’ eyes. He opened his mouth to protest, but Thanatos pushed him back once more, unyielding.
‘I’ll take care of her. I promise,’ Mal said, threading her fingers into Wren’s thick white fur. The wolf leaned into her touch.
Zagreus did not look convinced. But after a long moment, he gave a reluctant nod and turned away, vanishing into the depths of Tartarus.
Mal looked up at the great wolf beside her, a faint smile touching her lips despite the fire roaring below.
‘You make even the hardest of demons feel something, don’t you, girl?’ she said.
Wren huffed softly, as if she knew it to be true.
Thanatos stepped to Mal’s side, and before she could form a protest, he cupped her face in his hand and drew her nearer. Her breath faltered at the intensity in his stare, at the way his mouth hovered just shy of hers, close enough that she could almost taste the promise of it. Her palm pressed instinctively againsthis chest and she froze at the stillness there.
No rhythm. No beat.
‘Your heart…’ she said, and even though she knew it no longer worked, it still surprised her to feel nothing beneath the tips of her fingers. A void. Silence.
‘My heart is yours, Melinoe,’ he whispered, his voice low as dusk. ‘Whether it beats or not, it belongs to you. In every life. In every world. In life and in death.’
‘Thanatos…’
But whatever she had meant to say dissolved the moment his lips claimed hers.
The world fell away.
It felt as though something ancient within her stirred awake, something buried beneath grief and fury and vengeance. When his tongue met hers, it was as if the jagged pieces of her soul slid back into place, fitting together with terrible, beautiful inevitability. Warmth unfurled through her like a cloak drawn around cold shoulders. She had not realised how hollow she had felt until that moment.
She never wanted it to end.
When they finally tore apart, breathless and trembling, his forehead rested briefly against hers.
‘Remember,’ he said softly, ‘no matter what happens down there… it was all done for love.’
