KAIDA POV
I didn't sleep that night.
How could I? Every time I closed my eyes, I felt someone dying. An old man in his sleep—peaceful. A woman in childbirth—screaming. A sailor falling from a ship—terror and cold water.
Each death hit me like a punch to the chest. Each one left me gasping, tears streaming down my face, feeling emotions that weren't mine but somehow were.
By dawn, I'd counted seventeen deaths. Seventeen souls leaving their bodies, and I felt every single one.
"This is what he feels," I whispered to the empty ceiling of my tiny room. "Every day. For five hundred years."
No wonder Azrael wanted to die.
A knock on my door made me jump. "Kai?" Finn's voice was gentle. "We need to talk."
I dragged myself out of bed, every muscle aching like I'd been beaten. When I opened the door, Finn's face went pale.
"You look terrible."
"Thanks," I muttered. "I feel worse."
He guided me to the main room where Rook and Lyric waited. Someone had made coffee—strong enough to strip paint. I grabbed a cup gratefully.
"How many?" Lyric asked softly.
"Seventeen." My hands shook around the warm mug. "Seventeen people died last night, and I felt all of them."
"Gods," Finn breathed.
"Just one god," I corrected bitterly. "And he dumped his curse on me."
Rook leaned forward, his ageless eyes studying me. "Tell us everything. The real story. What happened in that temple?"
So I did. I told them about the vault, the crown melting into my skull, Azrael appearing with his star-filled eyes and his talk of bonds and death dates and becoming him in twenty-nine days.
"Twenty-eight days now," I said, glancing at the numbers burned into my vision. Every time I looked at my reflection, I saw the countdown. 28 DAYS, 4 HOURS, 33 MINUTES.
"And he wants us to steal pieces of his name?" Lyric frowned. "From where?"
"From the most dangerous beings alive." I took a long drink of coffee. "Starting with someone called Seraphine."
Rook's face went even paler than usual. "The Fallen Star? The goddess who runs the Skybound Chains prison?"
"That's the one."
"We're dead," Finn said flatly. "We are absolutely dead."
"We're dead if we don't try," I shot back. "In twenty-eight days, I become Death. Do you know what that means? I'll be immortal, alone, feeling every death forever. I'll lose you. I'll lose Mira. I'll lose everything that makes me human."
The room went quiet.
Then Lyric stood up, her silver hair catching the morning light. "Then we don't let that happen. We're a crew. We've pulled off impossible jobs before."
"Not against gods," Finn argued.
"Against the Crimson Cartel," Lyric countered. "Against blood mages and soul thieves and that nightmare creature in the Sunken District. We survived all of that. We'll survive this too."
I wanted to believe her. But through the bond, I felt Azrael's emotions lurking at the edge of my mind—doubt, exhaustion, and a bone-deep certainty that everyone he'd ever cared about eventually left him.
"There's something else," I said slowly. "Azrael said someone set this up. The client who hired me knew exactly what would happen when I touched the crown. They wanted me bonded to Death."
"Why?" Rook's eyes narrowed.
"I don't know. But whoever they are, they're playing a bigger game than we understand."
A sharp pain suddenly stabbed through my chest. Not my pain—someone else's. A young boy, falling from a bridge. Terror. Impact. Darkness.
I doubled over, gasping.
"Kaida!" Finn grabbed my shoulders.
"Another death," I choked out. "A child. He fell—he was so scared—"
The emotions faded slowly, leaving me hollow and shaking. Eighteen deaths. I'd been awake less than an hour, and I'd already felt eighteen people die.
"This is killing you," Lyric whispered, horror in her eyes.
"Not fast enough," I said bitterly. Then I felt it—a familiar presence at the edge of my awareness. Cold. Ancient. Coming closer.
"He's here."
Shadows gathered in the corner of the room, thick and dark as ink. The temperature dropped so fast I could see my breath. Then Azrael stepped out of nothing, as casually as someone walking through a door.
Finn immediately moved in front of me. "Stay back!"
"Relax," Azrael said tiredly. "If I wanted to hurt her, she'd already be dead. We're bonded now. Her pain is my pain." He looked at me, and something flickered in those star-filled eyes. "How many deaths?"
"Eighteen," I whispered.
He winced. Actually winced. "I'm sorry. It gets... easier isn't the right word. You get better at carrying it. Eventually."
"How long did it take you?"
"About fifty years."
I laughed—a horrible, broken sound. "I have twenty-eight days."
"Which is why we start training today." Azrael's voice was firm. "You need to learn to control the bond's powers before they control you."
"What powers?" Rook asked sharply. "What exactly did you do to her?"
Azrael turned his star-gaze on my crew. "The bond works both ways. She gets pieces of my abilities—seeing death dates, sensing souls, and eventually, if we don't break the curse, the power to separate souls from bodies." He paused. "But I also get pieces of her mortality. Her emotions. Her connections to the living world."
"You're using her," Finn accused.
"Yes," Azrael admitted without shame. "Just as she's using me to avoid becoming Death. We need each other. The bond ensures neither of us can betray the other without suffering ourselves."
"How convenient," Lyric said coldly.
"Not really." Azrael looked at me, and through the bond, I felt something unexpected: guilt. "Every death she feels tears at her. Every moment bonded to me makes her less human. If we fail to break the curse, she'll lose everything she loves." His voice dropped. "Just like I did."
The raw pain in those words hit me like a physical blow. Through the bond, I saw flashes of his memories: faces of people he'd loved, all dead now, all gone, leaving him alone for centuries.
"You loved someone," I whispered. "More than one someone. And you had to guide all their souls when they died."
Azrael's jaw tightened. "That's none of your concern."
But it was. Through the bond, I understood now. He wasn't just tired of being Death. He was broken by it. Shattered by watching everyone he cared about age and die while he remained unchanged, forever alone, forever witnessing endings.
"The first heist," I said, changing the subject before the emotions drowned me. "When do we leave for the Skybound Chains?"
"Tomorrow at dawn. Seraphine doesn't sleep, but her prison shifts with the daylight. Dawn is when the defenses are weakest." Azrael moved to the window, looking out at the city. "She has the first piece of my true name—a word carved into a feather from her wings. Stealing it will be... difficult."
"Difficult how?" Finn asked suspiciously.
"She'll try to kill you. Multiple times. In creative ways." Azrael said it like he was discussing the weather. "Also, the prison constantly changes—hallways move, rooms disappear. And the prisoners are immortal criminals who'd love nothing more than to drag you into their cells for entertainment."
"Sounds delightful," Rook muttered.
Azrael turned back to us, and his expression was grave. "I won't lie to you. This heist has maybe a thirty percent chance of success. But if we don't try—" He looked directly at me. "—Kaida becomes me in twenty-eight days, and I become human long enough to die. We both lose everything."
Another death hit me then. An old woman, dying surrounded by family, her last thought one of love. This one didn't hurt as much—it felt almost peaceful. But it still left me hollow.
"I can't do this for twenty-eight more days," I said quietly. "I'll go insane."
"I know." Azrael's voice was surprisingly gentle. "That's why I'm going to teach you to build walls in your mind. Shield yourself from the worst of it. It won't stop all the deaths, but it will make them bearable."
"When?"
"Now." He held out his hand. "Through the bond, I can show you how I survived five hundred years without losing my mind completely."
I stared at his hand. Pale. Long fingers. No warmth. The hand of Death itself.
Through the bond, I felt his uncertainty. He wasn't sure this would work. Wasn't sure I was strong enough. Wasn't sure he should even care if I survived or not.
But he did care. I felt it like a candle flame in the darkness—small, fragile, but burning.
I took his hand.
The world exploded.
Memories flooded through me—not mine, HIS. Five hundred years of death compressed into seconds. I saw civilizations fall. Plagues sweep continents. Children dying in their mothers' arms. Soldiers bleeding out in mud. Lovers taking poison together. Every death in history tried to fit inside my head.
I screamed.
And through it all, I felt Azrael's presence: steady, ancient, carrying the weight of it all because someone had to bear witness. Someone had to care.
This is what I am, his voice echoed in my mind. This is what you'll become if we fail.
The visions faded. I found myself on the floor, Finn and Lyric holding me, both crying. Rook stood frozen, shock on his usually unreadable face.
Azrael knelt beside me, and for the first time, he looked uncertain. "I'm sorry. That was too much too fast. But you needed to understand—"
"Who you really are," I finished, wiping tears from my face. Through the bond, I felt his truth now. Not a monster. Not evil. Just someone who'd carried impossible weight for so long he'd forgotten what it felt like to be anything else.
"I'll learn," I said firmly. "Teach me to shield myself. Teach me to survive this. And then we'll steal your name back and break this curse."
"And if we fail?"
I looked at my friends—at Finn with his three years left, at Lyric with her flickering death date, at Rook with his impossible ERROR.
"Then I'll be a better Death than you were," I said. "I won't hide away alone. I'll remember what it means to be human, even if I'm not one anymore."
Something shifted in Azrael's expression. Surprise. Maybe even respect.
"You might actually survive this," he said quietly.
Then the door exploded inward.
Three figures stood in the smoking doorway—tall, beautiful, and radiating power that made Azrael's presence feel like a candle next to a bonfire.
The one in front smiled, showing teeth too sharp to be human. "Found you, brother. Did you really think you could bond with a mortal and we wouldn't notice?"
Azrael went very still. Through the bond, I felt his emotions: shock, fear, and something that felt like old family grudges.
"Samael," he breathed. "You're supposed to be in the divine planes."
"Supposed to be." The figure's smile widened. "But when my dear twin brother starts playing with forbidden magic, I get curious." His eyes—golden and terrible—fixed on me. "And this must be the little thief who stole Death's crown. How delightful."
He raised his hand, and golden light gathered in his palm—power that felt like sunrise and endings all at once.
"Let's see if she survives meeting the God of Beginnings."