Dead People? Hard Pass!

"I can't believe you actually did that!" Zhuxen gasped, practically bouncing in place as she clutched Thanatos' hands with wide, sparkling eyes. If admiration could physically manifest, she would have been throwing flower petals at his feet by now.

Thanatos, on the other hand, looked like a man questioning all his life choices. "It wasn't a big deal," he muttered, staring at the floor like it personally wronged him.

Not a big deal?! Zhuxen begged to differ. They had just finished a delightful breakfast—one that, for once, didn't involve Thanatos glaring at his plate like it owed him money—when Lord William made his grand entrance. He had arrived with five whole carriages loaded with extravagant gifts, his posture screaming I am the superior suitor.

However, the moment he laid eyes on the gifts Thanatos had prepared, his entire aristocratic composure cracked like a cheap porcelain teacup. His face went pale, his right eye twitched, and without a word, he performed the most elegant retreat in history, gracefully excusing himself while subtly signaling his servants to turn those carriages around, immediately.

Zhuxen was in awe. "I mean, did you see his face? His soul nearly left his body! And to think, all it took was a few—"

Thanatos cut her off with a groan, rubbing his temples. "I told you, I'm not doing this again. Next time, just let him drown me in gold and be done with it."

But Zhuxen wasn't listening. No, she was already picturing the next disaster he could create, her enthusiasm only growing.

"So, about our deal," Zhuxen sighed dramatically, plopping onto the wooden bench beside Thanatos with the grace of someone who had just accepted their tragic fate.

The pavilion was peaceful, with a gentle breeze rustling through the garden, but the air was thick with tension—not because of their conversation, but because of the handful of guards standing awkwardly nearby. They weren't here to protect her. Oh no, their primary concern was keeping this whole situation from escalating into a royal scandal.

Because despite her ridiculous antics, Zhuxen had been raised with strict royal etiquette. And sitting alone with a man—especially one who wasn't her betrothed—was basically an open invitation for gossip, exile, or, worse, marriage proposals from elderly advisors who thought a "shotgun wedding" was the only solution.

Of course, that was assuming the man in question wasn't Thanatos, the literal Grim Reaper. If anything, the guards looked more like nervous cats trapped in a room full of rocking chairs, ready to bolt at a moment's notice.

Zhuxen tilted her head, smirking. "I mean, if I wanted to, you couldn't really escape me, right? But I am a woman of my word, my love." She smiled—an actual, genuine smile, which, for once, wasn't followed by a dramatic swoon or a fake tear. "So yeah, if you want to leave now and go fulfill your humble duties, I'll let you. After all, you have given us extraordinary gifts."

She leaned in slightly, eyes sparkling with curiosity. "By the way, are they permanent? Because I'd hate to wake up tomorrow and find out everything was just some fleeting miracle."

Thanatos exhaled sharply, pinching the bridge of his nose like a man who deeply regretted every choice that led him to this moment. "Of course, they're permanent," he said flatly. "After all, I own the land of the Northern Skies."

Zhuxen blinked. Then blinked again.

"…Wait." She frowned. "What does that have to do with anything?"

Thanatos just gave her a look. The kind of look that said I really don't have the energy to explain basic metaphysics to you right now.

She gasped, clutching her chest in mock offense. "Are you saying you just casually own entire realms and didn't think to mention it sooner? What else are you hiding? Do you also have a kingdom of sentient clouds? A pet dragon? A secret stash of legendary swords? Am I technically a princess now?!"

Thanatos stood up immediately. "I'm leaving."

"Oh no, you don't!" Zhuxen lunged, grabbing his sleeve before he could teleport away. "You're not running from me, Lord of the Northern Skies! Spill the secrets! Do you have a castle made of thunderclouds? Tell me everything!"

The guards exchanged glances, silently questioning if they should intervene.

They did not.

Because, frankly, no one wanted to deal with a lovestruck Zhuxen or worse... a fed-up Grim Reaper today.

"You're the one who came up with that ridiculous Northern Skies idea..." Thanatos groaned, rubbing his temples as if the mere memory pained him.

Zhuxen folded her arms, unimpressed. "And?"

With a dramatic sigh, Thanatos turned to face her, his expression suddenly grave, his dark eyes locking onto hers.

"My love," Zhuxen intoned solemnly, "we can't just kiss and make up here."

Zhuxen barely had a second to talk again before Thanatos recoiled, gasping as if struck by lightning.

"How immoral!" he cried, clutching his chest as though the sheer audacity of the thought might separate his soul and body.

"Calm down, it's a joke," Zhuxen giggled, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "So, I believe you're about to say something dramatic like, 'I no longer want to leave. I want to be with you forever,' or something like that."

Thanatos grimaced, his lips twitching as if resisting the urge to argue. Instead, he let out a long, weary sigh and straightened his posture.

"Most likely—"

"REALLY?!" Zhuxen squealed, practically bouncing in excitement.

"Shut up. I'm not done yet," Thanatos shot her a glare, his dark eyes sharp with warning. Then, his expression shifted, the usual exasperation melting into something far more serious. "I sensed something wrong in this space. I don't know if it's because I lost my scythe or if it's something more... but there's a chilling aura lingering here." His voice dropped lower, almost as if speaking too loudly would summon whatever presence he had detected. "An aura that should only exist in the underworld."

For the first time, Zhuxen stopped joking. Her body stilled, and her gaze locked onto his with rare intensity.

"I can help, right?" she asked, her voice softer now. "Otherwise, you wouldn't be telling me this."

Thanatos didn't answer immediately. Instead, he stared at the marbled floor, his brows furrowed in deep thought. He looked genuinely troubled.

Then, after what felt like an eternity, he inhaled deeply and turned back to her.

"Perhaps," he said, his tone unreadable. "Can you see dead people?"

Zhuxen blinked, taken aback.

"Your grandmother, Charlotte," Thanatos continued, his gaze never wavering. "She could see the dead. It's possible you inherited that ability."

Zhuxen frowned, her forehead creasing as she looked down, combing through her memories. Had she ever seen anything unusual? Ghostly figures? Strange occurrences? But no—nothing stood out. She shook her head firmly.

"I see," Thanatos murmured, leaning back slightly. A contemplative silence stretched between them before he suddenly straightened. His lips curled ever so slightly, an idea forming in his mind.

"How about this?"

Before Zhuxen could ask what he meant, her breath hitched as a bright glow ignited in the palm of his hand.

A sphere of fire, vibrant and alive, flickered to life. It wasn't like an ordinary flame—this fire burned with hues of gold, crimson, and deep violet, shifting like liquid light.

It danced above his palm without consuming it, moving with an almost hypnotic rhythm, casting flickering shadows on his sharp features. Wisps of ethereal smoke curled into the air, carrying a faint, otherworldly scent—something ancient, something powerful.

Zhuxen gasped, her eyes wide with awe. "That is so cool!"

Thanatos's lips curved into a small, knowing smile. "So, you can see it."

Zhuxen blinked, confusion flickering across her face as she turned her gaze back to him.

"This flame only exists in the underworld," he continued, his voice calm yet edged with certainty. The eerie blue fire danced in his palm, casting flickering shadows on his sharp features. "Thus, only the dead can perceive it. Since you're a glitched soul, I believe it's only a matter of time before you start seeing them as well… the lost souls."

Zhuxen's brows furrowed. Her gut twisted at his words, but she shoved the unease aside. "What is this all about, Aethan?"

"Thanatos," he corrected flatly, his fingers snapping shut. The flame disappeared in an instant, swallowed by an unseen force as if it had never existed. "I believe there's a strong soul lurking in this area. A soul that was written in Volumen Tenebrarum—a forbidden scroll that records the names of the most malevolent, wandering spirits."

Zhuxen tilted her head, unimpressed. "And what does that have to do with me?"

Thanatos exhaled slowly, as if he were steeling himself. The weight of the situation pressed against him, his expression growing more somber. "I believe you can see these souls," he said at last.

Zhuxen's breath hitched.

"And," he added, his gaze unwavering, "you might actually be able to catch them."

For a long moment, silence stretched between them. Zhuxen simply stared at him, her expression unreadable. Then, with deliberate slowness, she raised a hand, stuck out her pinky, and casually cleaned her ear before leaning in slightly.

"I'm sorry, what was that?"