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Azriel hadn't ever felt agony like this.

He felt like he was dying, but he knew it wasn't him that was bleeding out.

Fight, he urged through the bond even as he could feel it fading, fight, Astryn.

She didn't respond. She couldn't respond.

He felt wrath and misery and agony as Rhys winnowed them to the home he had given Vyn.

A wrecked sobbed ripped out of Azriel at the sight of Astryn. She was on the floor, blade discarded near her. Vyn hadn't gone for a wound that would kill quickly. He didn't give her a swift death despite how he claimed this was a mercy-killing. He stabbed her and then pulled out the blade so she would bleed to death. She reeked of faebane, and Azriel knew it was why she wasn't healing.

His body shook with cries as he dropped to the floor and pressed his hands over the wound to try to slow the bleeding. She blinked up at him slowly, as if she trying to figure out if it was really him or not.

"I tried to fight," she muttered, eyes only half open, "I'm not...I'm not broken. I tried to fight."

Azriel sobbed, pulled her closer to himself.

"I know," he said, his voice heavy with so much guilt and pain. "I know you're not broken. I'm so sorry. I love you. Please don't leave me. You have to stay. You have to fight."

"I don't want to go away," she murmured, "I want to stay with you."

"You have to. You have to stay," he insisted, paying no mind to the murder happening across the room. Rhys was slaughtering Vyn—brutally, slowly. "Stay with me, okay? I need you to stay. Please. Please, stay here with me. I love you. I love you so much. You have to stay."

Even as he said it, he could feel the bond fading, could feel her fading. And all he could think was the last thing she heard from him before all this was him thinking she was broken. That was the last thing she got from him before this. If she died here like this, he would grab that blade still wet with her blood and take it to his own heart.

"Az," she muttered, "I'm scared."

"It's okay," he said the words that he knew weren't true. She was dying here in his arms and there was nothing he could do about it. "Everything is going to be okay."  Nothing would. Nothing would ever be okay. "You'll be okay, Astryn. I love you. Always remember that, okay? I love you more than life itself."

Her lips parted, but no words came out. No sounds at all. Her unseeing eyes remained open as her breathing stopped, as her heart stopped, as he felt the bond vanish into nothing while her blood was still warm on his skin.

Every part of him felt like death.

He reached for the dagger, but Rhys beat him to it. He snatched it up and threw it across the room where Vyn's corpse lay dead.

"No," Rhys snarled, "no. You don't get to die. You don't get to leave me too."

Whatever anger that had existed between them had vanished. Rhys had believed he would kill Azriel if Astryn was hurt because of him pushing her away, but he couldn't do it. He couldn't look at his sister dead in his arms and let him die too, couldn't lose him too.

"I—I can't," Azriel stammered, "the bond is...In feel death. Death and emptiness."

"I can't lose you too," Rhys insisted, dropping to his knees in his sister's blood.

There was silent understanding between them. If either one of them gave up and chose death now, the other would too.

•••

Astryn didn't feel pain. Or fear or panic or anything other than confusion. She remembered trying to tell Azriel she loved him, but the words wouldn't leave her. Then she was gone.

Now, she was here.

A handsome male sat upon a throne. A crown made of silver bones gleaned atop his head of golden hair. His eyes were dark, but they twinkled with interest. His throne was made of the same silver bones as his crown. There was another silver-bone throne next to his, and on it was a crown that matched his.

He stood when he saw her, and he was towering, taller than even Azriel. He moved with immortal grace, but he looked at her with reverence.

"It has been a long time," the male began, his voice smooth and sensuous, "since a mortal creature caught my attention. But, gods, I've seen you since before your brother freed you from the cave. I gave that male who forced you to marry him a very special welcome to the afterlife when your mate killed him."

Astryn stared at him for a moment, at those eyes that had never known life.

"You...I'm dead," she realized, eyebrows furrowed. The male's hand twitched and he shoved it in his pocket. He was resisting the urge to touch her.

"You are," he confirmed solemnly, "welcome to my kingdom."

Her face shifted into that expression she never realized she wore—the one that had Azriel saying yes to anything she asked.

"But I don't want to be dead," she said, a pout on her lips as her eyelashes fluttered. Even this male—Death himself, somehow held the breath he didn't even need at the sight of the pretty little pout. He was utterly entranced by her. "I want to be with Azriel. And Cassian. And I want to see my brother."

Death frowned. He hated seeing her so sad.

"I'll offer you a deal," he told her gently, because he couldn't bear that sadness. "I will let you return to your life, but when you have lived a long and happy life with your mate and are ready to accept an ending, I want you to offer me a chance to show you a new beginning."

He motioned towards the empty throne and the crown resting on it.

"I want you to offer me a chance to win your heart," he continued, "to earn your affection."

Astryn's head tilted to the side slightly, her eyes widening at the realization as it hit her. This make, this immortal male who hadn't ever experienced life, wanted her on the throne beside his own.

"Why?" she asked quietly, and Death laughed softly.

"I don't know," he confessed, "I have been trying to figure it out for longer than you know, Astryn. I have glimpsed the future, every possible version of it. And, somehow, I always want you. I always save this throne and this crown for you. So, return home, live happily with your mate, but one day, give me a chance."

Death smiled at her, and he gently kissed her cheek.

And then she was falling back to her body.

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