<b>Chapter </b><b>61 </b>
<b>Xavier </b>
3
I portal back to the grand hall just before Noah steps in beside me, his shirt slightly askew and a spark of satisfaction still lingering in his expression. Haiden and Levi are already here, and they’ve clearly been busy. Our mate is half–dressed and fast asleep, curled in Haiden’sp like she belongs there, and we all know she does.
“I thought we said we were going to wait until this afternoon?<b>” </b>I say dryly, arching a brow.
Haiden raises the hand that was resting casually on Evelina’s bare waist and tosses it into the air with mock surrender. “Hey, I didn’t start it. I just happened to pop in to find a very interesting scene, and there’s no way I was going to just stand there and watch. Not after you all ruined my chance at fun this morning.”
I narrow my eyes at Levi, who’s currently fastening his robe with a smug little grin, eyes dancing. “I couldn’t help it,” he says unapologetically. “Flint wanted his mate.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose. “If we gave in every time one of our wolves wanted our mate, we’d never leave the bedroom again.<b>” </b>
“Fine by me,” Haiden mutters as he gently tucks a strand of Evelina’s dark hair behind her ear. His touch is soft, reverent<b>. </b>Protective.
“There should be a bedroom around here somewhere,” I say with a pointed look. “Find it. Put her down to rest. Then we all get to work cleaning up this backlog of souls. It’s not going to sort itself.”
Haiden mock–salutes with his free hand while Levi leans in and carefully scoops our mate from Haiden’sp<b>, </b>cradling her against his chest like she’s made of spun ss. The moment shifts, just slightly, from teasing to tender, and for a beat<b>, </b>we all simply watch her breathing. Then they vanish from the hall, and the weight of duty settles on me again like a mantle. Noah pats me on the shoulder as he heads toward the basement, where the older, more fractured souls are waiting. “I’ll start cross–checking the fragmented ones<b>,</b><b>” </b>he says. “You taking the top of the list?”
<b>“</b>I’m taking the pack first,” <b>I </b>reply, already flipping open my tablet.
Technically<b>, </b>I’m supposed to begin with the oldest souls–the ones who’ve been waiting the longest. But I’m not just Death. I’m Alpha. And if there’s anything I’ve learned in both roles, it’s this: <b>you </b>take care of your own first. The digital list unfurls before me in tight, neat rows of names. I sort by pack and age, then pause when one name catches my eye: Marie Atkinson. Fifty–eight. Rogue attack. I know that name. Everyone- did, <b>once</b>. Marie was an omega who used to work at the Red Moon pack house when I was a boy. She made the best shepherd’s pie I’d ever tasted, let <b>us </b>sneak spoonfuls of cake batter, and always smelled like thyme and flour. She was… kind. One of the few adults who never looked at me like I was already a monster<b>. </b>I portal out, scythe in hand, the heavy fabric <b>of </b>my reaper’s robe curling around my legs as I step into the mortal realm. It’s early evening at Red Moon. The pack is active, training, cooking, tending to the pups. Life continues around me, utterly unaware of the death standing in their midst. They can’t <b>see </b>me like this, cloaked as I am. I move to <b>the </b>far edge of the grounds, behind the pack house. Beyond the barbeque pit we usedst week, there’s a stretch ofnd where vegetable patches grow in careful rows. I remember crouching here with Marie as she guided my clumsy hands through the dirt<b>, </b>teaching me how to pick carrots without breaking them. She’s here. Or rather, what’s left of her is. A misty echo of Marie kneels among the carrot <b>tops</b><b>, </b>humming a soft, tuneless melody as she works. Caught in a memory loop, unaware of what’s happened.
“Miss Atkinson,” I say gently, stepping forward and pulling back my hood so she can see my face.
She looks <b>up</b>, smiling warmly. No fear. No confusion. Just kindness. “Yes? How may I help you<b>?</b><b>” </b>
“It’s me, Marie. Xavier.”
She tilts her head, squinting. “Nonsense. Xavier’s just a wee boy. Sweet thing.”
I smile sadly. “Marie<b>… </b>you died. It’s time to move on now. Will youe with me?”
Herugh is soft, dismissive, “I did not die. Don’t be ridiculous. I’d remember something like that.”
Isigh and move closer, cing my hand on her shoulder. “You don’t remember because you weren’t ready,” I call on the power within me, letting it unfurl like mist from my fingertips. It slips into her, coaxing memory from where it was buried. Her entire body stiftens. Then her breath catches like a <b>gasp</b>.
*I… I died,” she whispers, voice trembling. “What am I doing here, then?”
“You were waiting for me.”
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1:01 PM P <b>P </b>
Her eyes search mine<b>, </b>finally seeing me clearly. “Xavier<b>,</b><b>” </b>she says again, <b>this </b>time with aching familiarity. She lifts her hands and cups my face like I’m still the boy she used to feed scraps to. “You’ve grown into such a handsome young man.<b>” </b>
“Are you ready to go, Marie?”
“Where are we going?”
<b>“</b>I’m taking you to Haiden. He’ll exin the rest, and we’ll find you somewhere to rest.<b>” </b>
She hesitates. “Okay,” she breathes.
“Close your eyes for me.”
When she does, I raise my scythe, the de glowing faintly as it draws her <b>soul </b>forward. She fades softly, a shimmer of light trailing with me <i>as </i><b>I </b>portal back.
I reappear in the reaping room<b>, </b>catching Haiden mid–sip of his coffee. He startles<b>, </b>nearly choking. “Dammit, warn a guy next time!<b>” </b>
I ignore him for now, stepping aside so Marie can appear fully. Her expression is equal parts wonder and confusion. The room looks different. Haiden’s clearly been busy. The walls are now painted a soft ivory, lined with plush chairs and glowing sconces. Fake windows show blue skies and clouds, giving the illusion of a sunny day. There are vending machines, a water cooler, and even TVs ying feel–good movies. It feels more like a waiting room than a purgatory.
“Remodeled already, brother<b>?</b><b>” </b><b>I </b>ask, impressed.
<b>“</b>Yeah. The dark, creepy vibes weren’t exactlyforting to the newly dead. I might add some inspirational posterster. Maybe something with puppies.”
Marie spots him and lights up. “Haiden! Oh, goodness gracious. Look at you! There had to <b>be </b>something in the water you boys were drinking. Aren’t you just a pretty thing?”
Haiden preens<b>, </b>blushing. “I know. I’m very cute. Come in, I’ll exin everything. We’ll get you a room and a snack, maybe some tea.”
A soul on the couch grumbles, “Hey, there’s a line!”
Haiden rolls his eyes. “Shut it, Rick. You’re not going anywhere until someone exins why you still think you’re a chicken.”
Marie chuckles and takes Haiden’s hand, offering me a warm<b>, </b>lingering <b>hug </b>before following him inside.
I watch her go, heart full and strangely heavy. One more soul home. One less forgotten.
I portal back to Red Moon<b>, </b>the scent of thyme still lingering in the air.
<b>This </b>work<b>, </b><b>Goddess </b>of the Underworld <b>by </b>Sheridan <b>Hartin</b><b>, </b>is an <b>exclusive </b>intellectual <b>property </b><b>legally </b>contracted <b>with </b><b>NovelSnack</b><b>. </b><b>Any </b><b>reproduction</b><b>, </b><b>distribution</b><b>, </b><b>or </b><b>upload </b>outside NovelFlow<b>, </b>AnyStories<b>, </b>NovGo<b>, </b>and Readink is <b>unauthorized </b>and constitutes <b>copyright </b>infringement.
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