“Let’s see if you can harness it.” Leticia placed her icy hand on my cheek, her gaze boring into mine. The touch sent a shudder down my spine as knowledge without words poured into my brain … who she was—another of my ancestors who had once been a failed Reaper; why Mazarin wasn’t with us—still in too weakened a state to help at the moment; and what they most wanted to show me—how to reach out and absorb the energies of spirits who’d passed through this realm.
I tried to focus as she silently transferred her memories to me. Memories of how to find lost souls and former Reapers within the haze of ethereal beings hovering around us.
I gazed about the room, and they slowly appeared before me the more I drew on my ancestor’s knowledge. Their eyes followed me like moths to flame, eager for my touch despite their fragile forms. But something about the task felt wrong ... heavy ... As if I was taking more than their energy.
My head swam with conflicting emotions as I pulled more power than I’d ever dreamt possible into myself. It was too much. I needed grounding, somehow. My mind desperately flailed for answers, for protection against the onslaught of memories and powers not my own.
It was more overwhelming than even the bonding ceremony had been.
The bonding.
Suddenly I missed my mates in a way that took my breath. I missed their warmth and laughter, the way they wrapped themselves around me. Even the way they pissed me off sometimes. Their presence would’ve been enough to make this whole thing feel less ... hollow. I pulled deeper into the memory of their warmth until I was finally able to breathe deeply and evenly again.
When I opened my eyes, Leticia was smiling.
“You are doing well, Sierra,” she whispered. “We will rest briefly. Soon you will be ready for another teacher.”
“Another teacher?”
She nodded, weakly. She seemed fainter than before, and I wondered if whatever she’d done had been hard for her too.
The answer hit me like a punch to the gut. I wasn’t just taking on Leticia’s memories and learning her former duties: I was draining the very essence of her – as she had done from others before her.
My head shook back and forth, and she gave me a soft, sad smile of understanding.
“You see it now, don’t you?”
I was starting to. And I didn’t like it. “I need to speak to Mazarin,” I insisted.
“Later. She needs rest. Our mother is tired, and you are our last hope, Sierra.”
We trained for what felt like hours, days, weeks. In the underworld, time lost meaning for me. All I knew was I went through a succession of spirit teachers who became weakened until they had to be replaced by others – and each session pushed me further into a new existence. It was surreal: one moment I was learning about the mysteries of life and death, and in the next, I was challenged to become half-spirit myself – reclaiming and moving souls through death into life again and then beyond. Others—those who did not want to go in peace—I was taught to destroy completely.
Every time I returned from training, exhaustion claimed me quickly, and I collapsed onto the cold, hard floor. That’s when the doubt curled around my heart, squeezing tight. What if this was my eternity? What if there was no going back? No escape from the endless battles of life and death?
Was it really what I wanted? They said it was the only way to keep those I loved safe, but being a Reaper meant leaving everyone behind for a while. Ethan, Artemis ... I ached for them, feared what might have happened to them. And the others.
Tormenting, familiar faces flashed through my mind: Heath’s smirk, Enzo’s teasing glint, Riley’s deep sighs as he held me close ... Torin’s possessive hands running down my body. My back arched as my pussy clenched. I could still feel them all – my mates. They lingered within me like a phantom ache. Impossible to forget.
One evening, after yet another day of training, what was left of my guides were finally joined by Mazarin, and we gathered around a hearth that blazed with blue-hot embers. After being in the cold for so long, the heat felt foreign on my skin, yet every inch of me craved its warmth. It must have been made for me—the others didn’t need it, though they watched the flames with longing. Mazarin seemed tired, and only slightly stronger than the last time I’d seen her, but her expression held pride as she watched me.
“Your aura is changing. You are making progress.”
Don’t have much of a choice, do I? I didn’t bother saying it aloud. They would all know what I was thinking anyway.
“There are always choices, Sierra,” she said, proving my point. She glided to a small alcove carved in the wall and gestured for me to follow.
“Take out that which is within.”
I peered into the empty space. “There’s nothing there.”
“Put your hand inside and retrieve what you need.”
Here we go again with the cryptic messages. Was it a trap?
The soft snickers of the spirits behind us didn’t make me feel any safer. Was that part of the test? My heart beat faster. Would it send me back?
I thrust my hand inside before I could have second thoughts and felt cool glass against my palm. My fingers closed around a small vial and I pulled it out, disappointed.
The dark, iridescent purple glass was pretty, but unless it was a key to get me out of there and into a normal life, it wasn’t what I was hoping for. I held it to the candlelight for a better look, and the liquid inside shimmered.
“Drink it,” she instructed softly. “Tomorrow, you will find out how different you truly are.”
“No, thank you.”
“Take it, Sierra,” she insisted. “You are going to need it to survive.”
The spirits behind her smiled and nodded, gesturing for me to drink.
Fine. I sighed, popped the small cork with my thumb, then tipped the contents into my mouth before I could change my mind. The liquid was bitter on my tongue, burning down my throat.
A wave of euphoria washed over me, followed by an odd sense of purpose. I turned to the others, fully expecting Mazarin to be smug and happy, yet tension radiated off her like heatwaves.
“You didn’t know I’d react to it, did you?” I gasped, fear and betrayal causing my voice to squeak.
She chuckled softly. “Know for certain? No. But able to predict based on millennia of experience and your own strength? Yes.”
Her fingers traced over my arm. “What’s coming won’t be easy, Sierra. There will be trials designed to test not only your abilities, but also your mental and emotional resolve.” She paused, her gaze boring into mine. “Being a Reaper requires great strength, and great love.”
I swallowed hard, trying to ignore the pit forming in my stomach. I’d survived so far, but that didn’t make it any less terrifying.
Especially when they said that after a short rest, my true test would begin. And to add shit icing to that scary cake: if I failed, I could be lost here forever.
Later, as I lay on the cold, earthen floor, my dreams were haunted by things I’d been trying not to think about: Heath’s lips capturing mine, Enzo’s strong hands gently stroking my most sensitive flesh, Riley’s playful grin as he played with my nipples, and Torin’s punishing thrusts as he filled me with his large cock and hot cum.
I woke to chilled wind whistling through the tunnels, a stark contrast to the heat that had engulfed my dreams. I quickly washed up using a basin of water left for that purpose. The cool liquid and cold air whisked away the heat from my face and other places.
I hurried to the dining area the former reapers had prepared for me. Breakfast was simple: stew and bread by the fire. I had chosen early on to not wonder where the food might be coming from, or if it was even real. I forced down each mouthful, feeling hollow inside. Remnants of my dreams flitted through my mind. Moments like these, when I dreamed about my new mates, the warmth of their bodies and laughter ... I missed everything about them.
I shook my head in disbelief. Less than a year ago, I was stuck in a trailer park wondering how I could ever change my situation, then not long after, I’d been fighting against those four for my life. Yet somehow, that had all turned into this.
My next lesson started as soon as we stepped out into the drizzle. Cobblestone streets were slick underfoot as we approached an abandoned cemetery. Everything seemed washed in shades of blue and gray, like a storm gathering before dusk. I couldn’t tell if any of it was real - where we were, or even when we were. There was a feeling of history, but played out as if it were the present. Had we gone back in time, or was this simply another facet of the spirit realm?
As we ascended a hill, mud squelched beneath our boots, and branches clawed at my skin like spectral fingers. Icy air nipped at my cheeks. At the crest, I saw why we were there: a freshly dug grave - the edges still raw from its excavation.
“Ask the spirit inside why it wants to be released,” Mazarin instructed.
Taking a deep breath, I closed my eyes, and reached out with my senses. Coldness crept over my skin, stirring something dark within me. I knelt beside the loose mound of earth and thrust my hand inside, forcibly overcoming my internal reluctance.
