“But don’t get cocky,” she mumbled incoherently. “Doesn’t matter how much they love you, you’remymonster, and I don’t share.”
“Isss,” Meph hissed in that fingernails-on-a-chalkboard voice.
“Don’t worry.” She smiled faintly. “I’m yours too.”
Iris drifted in and out of awareness for the next... who knew how long. Time ceased to have meaning. Life had become a haze of pain and weakness.
In the moments she was awake, she was aware of glowing red eyes watching her, and it gave her a sense of comfort. If this was going to be her end, she was glad he was with her. In a way, it was fitting that he looked like the Grim Reaper. He would guide her into the afterlife.
The fact that dying while she was in Hell meant her soul would be trapped on the plains, never reaching the Nine Rings where humans were meant to be kept—and certainly never getting the chance to reach Heaven—was something she resolutely refused to think about.
It wasn’t that difficult, considering her brain was mush. She was distantly aware of sensations of touch—claw tips on her face, in her hair—and able to recognize faint emotions, but that was as much as she could make her mind work.
She felt contentment at being with her monster. She felt a distant sense of concern for someone else, though she wasn’t sure who. And she felt pain, always so much goddamn pain. And thirst. She was so damn thirsty.
Eventually the thirst gave way to delirium, and the pain mercifully vanished with that. The concern dissipated shortly after, and then she just felt the contentment. That was nice.
Occasionally, she dimly registered that she was being held. Cradled in shadowy, skeletal arms.
That was the last sensation she was aware of—arms wrapped around her, those lethal claws in her hair—before it started to fade again like everything else.
But this time, she knew it was for the last time.
She wasn’t sure how she felt about that. Everything was foggy, and it made it hard to care. She felt peaceful. Distantly, she remembered oceans of grief drowning her for years, too painful to feel, so she’d transformed them into anger. Anger was easier. Anger made you strong. Sadness was weak.
Or so she’d thought.
But really, she knew now, Lily’s method of handling her grief had taken the real strength. Lily had retreated into herself for several years, only to emerge anew like a butterfly from a chrysalis. A new woman. Changed by her pain into something beautiful.
Iris had let hers morph her into something ugly. She’d turned it into poisoned arrows that she shot at the people in her life and at her own self.
But right here and now, she was done suffering. She wasn’t a failure, and she’d never been weak.
Her parents’ deaths weren’t her fault. As much as she hated her mother’s decision, she understood that forcing Iris into that vow had saved her life. Without it, Valefor would have taken her and Lily. Valefor would have won.
Her parents had given up their lives so Iris could have one, and she was done wasting it with pain and regret. She was finally going through her own metamorphosis, transforming into a butterfly, free to fly away. Maybe she only had a few minutes left, but at least she’d made her peace.
She only wished she’d gotten the chance to be there for Meph the way he deserved. The way she wanted to be. She would love to show him the new Iris that had been born out of this suffering while he cradled her in his monstrous arms.
She’d been so determined not to get into another relationship after the Antoine fiasco, and yeah, it had been the right decision at the time. But only a fool would fail to see how Meph was different. And now, howshewas different. If she could go back now, she wouldn’t hesitate to jump in with both feet, eager to see what the future held. She regretted that she wouldn’t get that chance.
White light started to glow from somewhere at the center of her being.
Was this the end, then? She was resigned to it now, she supposed, but damn it, she hated leaving him like this. Would he blame himself for her death? When he shifted back to human form, if he ever did, would he hate himself for not taking her back to Earth to a hospital? Would he understand that she didn’t blame him in the least?
The light got brighter. And brighter still.
It brightened until it obliterated all else and burned behind her eyelids like she’d turned her face into the sun.
She opened her eyes. Dimly aware of darkness around her, she looked down at herself and saw her arms were glowing. She lifted her hands and stared at her palms like she’d never seen them before.
Was she dead? Was she becoming an angel? She snorted. Not likely. But damn, this was weird.
A slimy, cold wet thing slithered up her neck.
She turned her head and saw herself looking into the glowing red eyes of a monster.Hermonster.
“Are you the Grim Reaper after all?” she asked him.
