Holy shit!
Lian cursed internally, feeling the sudden urge to drop the tray of food she was holding and sprint straight out of the room. Instead, she gripped it tighter, her knuckles turning white as she blinked rapidly, trying to make sense of the absurdly handsome—no, ethereal—man standing beside her mistress.
"My lady!" she gasped, nose flaring. "Who is this… this…" She trailed off, eyes raking over the stranger from head to toe, trying to find the right words.
Tall. Inhumanly tall. Broad shoulders that could probably carry the weight of all her exhaustion from not sleeping a wink. A jawline so sharp it could slice through her dignity.
Skin so pale it almost glowed under the morning light, contrasting starkly against his black tuxedo suit—no, not just any suit. A perfectly tailored, soul-snatching, 'I am Death and I will look good while doing it' kind of tuxedo suit.
The material clung to him like it had been woven by celestial tailors themselves. The jet-black fabric was smooth, embroidered with faint, almost spectral silver patterns that shimmered subtly whenever he moved.
His long, flowing cloak draped over his shoulders effortlessly, lined with a dark, shifting mist that made him seem more like a supernatural deity than a man. His crisp white dress shirt was buttoned up just enough to be respectable but still hinted at something Lian absolutely should not be staring at.
And his hair—oh, his hair. Raven-black, slightly tousled, as if he had just stepped out of a gothic romance novel where he spent the night brooding under the moonlight. And those eyes—piercing, deep-set, and carrying the weight of millennia of exhaustion.
He looked like someone who had seen civilizations rise and fall, who had whispered to dying kings, who had personally escorted emperors into the afterlife—and was just so done with all of it.
But despite the sheer, devastating attractiveness of this man, one thing was painfully clear: he was annoyed.
Deeply, soul-crushingly annoyed.
His lips were pressed into a tight line, jaw clenched like he was actively restraining himself from hurling someone—probably Zhuxen—straight into the afterlife.
And speaking of Zhuxen—she, for some infuriating reason, looked completely at home.
Worse, she was clinging onto his arm, her fingers wrapped around his sleeve with the confidence of a woman who had absolutely no intention of letting go.
She leaned in slightly, her head tilting just enough to look up at him with a smug, knowing grin, as if she had just won the ultimate prize in a celestial lottery.
"Lian, meet Aethan Grimrose," Zhuxen beamed. "My future husband."
Lian felt her soul physically leave her body for a moment. She blinked. Once. Twice. Nope. The insanity in the room remained unchanged.
"Hmm? F-Future husband?" she stammered, gripping the tray so hard it might snap in half. "M-My lady, Lord William Aldrich de Vesci will be here at seven in the morning. This is not the time for jokes!"
Zhuxen, unbothered and thriving in delusion, simply waved a hand. "Oh, Lian! Go tell my father that we will still be having a grand celebration today, but instead of William, it will be with Aethan, the love of my life." She smiled sweetly and squeezed Thanatos's—no, Aethan's—arm tighter.
Aethan, looking positively done with life, which was ironic, given his job, exhaled so hard it might have actually taken years off his immortal lifespan.
Lian's eyelid twitched. "Aethan?" She narrowed her eyes. "Something about that name sounded disturbingly familiar."
Zhuxen giggled behind her hand, a villainous little sound that should have sent alarm bells ringing across the kingdom. "Oh, don't be silly, Lian! You've never met Aethan Grimrose before."
Aethan Grimrose, for his part, was staring at Zhuxen like she was the final boss battle of his existence.
"And yet, I feel like I have," Lian muttered, still squinting.
"Nope! Impossible!" Zhuxen chimed, practically shoving Lian toward the door. "Now, go along! And remember, you need to deliver the message to my father with feelings, okay? With feelings."
Lian stumbled forward, gripping the doorframe for dear life. "With—My lady, you're replacing a baron's son with a man you just conjured out of thin air?"
"Oh, don't be dramatic," Zhuxen laughed. "He was always meant to be here."
Aethan scoffed loudly.
The moment Lian left, Thanatos violently flicked Zhuxen's arm off of him like she was a particularly clingy mosquito.
Unfortunately for him, Zhuxen was just as stubborn as she was delusional. Almost instantly, she latched onto his suit again, fingers curling into the fine fabric like a woman possessed.
"You're not going anywhere, my love," Zhuxen cleared her throat, smiling sweetly. Too sweetly. It was the kind of smile that preceded disaster.
Thanatos groaned. "Woman—"
"We have an agreement," she cut him off, wagging a finger in his face. "You can only go back to your realm—or wherever it is you haunt—once you attend my celebration as my future husband."
Thanatos' eye twitched. "I don't trust your words, woman. That is exactly what your grandmother said."
"Well, at least I'm not locking you in a basement," Zhuxen pointed out, all too cheerfully.
Thanatos' soul left his body for a second. He pinched the bridge of his nose, inhaling deeply, reminding himself that he was the literal personification of death, yet somehow, he was losing to this one mortal woman.
This had happened before. With her grandmother.
And while the resemblance in personality was uncanny, there was one major, terrifying difference between the two:
Charlotte had needed an entire ritual and basement spell to keep him trapped.
Zhuxen?
Zhuxen just had to touch him.
And he had no idea why.
Which meant he had no way of breaking free.
For now.
So, until he figured out how, he'd play along.
Even if that meant becoming her so-called "future husband."
Besides… Zhuxen's ability intrigued him.
Maybe, just maybe—if he understood how she did it—he could use it.
One day.
To take over the underworld.
"My love, I adore you, but that grin is extremely terrifying," Zhuxen grimaced.
Thanatos, who hadn't even realized he was grinning, immediately wiped the expression off his face like a kid caught stealing cookies.
She patted his arm reassuringly. "Much better! Now, since you'll be courting me today and asking for my hand from my parents, you'll need lots of gifts and, of course, men who will act as your guards. You can do that, right?"
Thanatos blinked. "I'm a god, not a magician, woman." He scowled. "I thought I was just supposed to stand there while you did the introductions. Why are you making this harder than it already is?!"
Zhuxen tilted her head, smirking. "Oh? So you don't want to go back to your realm?"
Thanatos glared.
She sighed dramatically, placing a hand over her chest. "You know, it's been a while since you've been here. By now, there must be so many lost souls roaming around. Aimless. Confused. Scary."
Thanatos rolled his eyes. "That's not really a problem. I'm not the only Grim Reaper, you know."
And that was exactly the problem. Grim Reaper's report every twenty-four hours and it has been twelve hours since he tragically landed with an unbelievable human.
Adrian, the leader of the underworld, is going to kill him the moment he found out Thanatos had been messing around with a human again. He, Thanatos, the right hand of Adrian.
"Ah, yeah, but you lost your scythe, remember?" Zhuxen grinned like a gremlin. "And if you stay here any longer, you might lose it forever. Wooohhh, scaryyyy!" She wiggled her fingers in mock horror.
Thanatos rolled his eyes so hard they nearly left his skull. "Fine. For the sake of my scythe..." And for the sake of his curiosity about Zhuxen's freakish ability, he had to play along.
For now. Just for now.
"You can get yourself dressed now," he grumbled, gently trying to pry her grip off his suit.
But the moment his sleeve so much as twitched, Zhuxen latched back onto him like a barnacle.
"Nope! You're getting nowhere."
"Geez, relax! I'm not gonna ditch you..." he muttered, before adding under his breath, "...not yet."
Zhuxen's eyes narrowed dangerously.
"And how can I be sure of that?" she demanded, leaning in with suspicion so intense it could interrogate a criminal.
Thanatos scoffed. "What, do you want me to say, 'cross my heart and hope to die'?"
"Kinda, but lo and behold, I know gods do bindings with humans or—what's that word again—uhmm..." Zhuxen snapped her fingers repeatedly, her face scrunching up in deep thought.
Thanatos crossed his arms. "You mean contracts?"
"No, no, no!" She waved a dismissive hand. "Something fancier... more godly..." She snapped again. "Ugh, what was it—ahh! Eppagelía! Yes, that!"
Thanatos blinked. "You actually pronounced that right?"
Zhuxen puffed out her chest proudly. "Of course! My grandmother made sure I memorized all kinds of divine stuff—for moments exactly like this!"
Thanatos dragged a hand down his face. "Of course, she did. I swear, I am suing that old woman in the afterlife," he suddenly grumbled. "Actually, wait—I can look for her in the underworld."
"Nah! Grandmother said she'd never let you catch her."
Thanatos stopped mid-thought and let out the world's longest sigh. "Of course she did." He ran his fingers through his hair. "Fine. Let's do whatever ridiculous thing you want—Eppagelía, was it?"
Zhuxen's eyes sparkled. "Really?! Just like that?"
"I have no choice," he deadpanned. "The sooner we do this, the sooner I can leave." He straightened up and extended a hand. "Give me your hand."
Zhuxen grinned, covering her mouth as a giggle bubbled up. She reached for his hand dramatically. "Yes, I do—"
Thanatos immediately pressed a finger to her lips. "No," he groaned. "Just—silence. Please." He grabbed the hand she had used to cling to his suit and flipped it over.
Zhuxen blinked in slow motion as Thanatos leaned down and kissed her wrist. Was this a romantic ritual? A sacred oath? A confession?! She was about to squeal when—
"666?!" she shrieked, staring at the black mark now glowing on her skin. "What the f—"