Thaniel
My hands flew to my mouth.
"Arghh!"
That was the sound I made when I jerked up.
What the heck? Did I just... Scream?!
Like a human!
I thought that was all. But then air tore into my lungs like glass—sharp and burning—dragging pain through a body that felt wrong. It was too heavy, too tight, and definitely too loud. My chest convulsed as breath came in frantic, uneven pulls, my heart slamming against bone like it was trying to escape.
Shit!
I gasped and gasped again.
Every breath hurt.
White bled into my vision. I blinked once more, and then shapes started taking place. I recognized the ceiling. Then the harsh lights. There was also the steady beep… beep… beep of something counting time I was never meant to have.
I froze.
A hospital.
I was in a hospital.
The smell of antiseptic stung my nose. Sheets scraped against my skin. Sensation crashed into me all at once—pressure in my limbs, soreness in my throat, and an ache behind my eyes. When my fingers twitched at my side, they moved.
But they were slow and weak.
Just like those stupid mortals.
Heat flared suddenly behind my eyes. Anger and fury swirl deep within me.
Then like a lightning bolt, the memories hit me.
"You will live," Michael's voice had echoed. "As a human."
My breath stuttered.
Golden fire flared—Lucifer's grin, sharp and satisfied.
"Twelve," his voice purred. "Twelve, Thaniel."
I clenched my jaw as the memory sharpened.
Lucifer circled me, fire dripping from his wings.
"You are to make twelve humans who are already holding on to life, long for death." His grin widened. "You won't touch them. Won't even hurt them. And you won't kill them. They are to do that themselves."
Michael stood between us, unmoved.
I couldn't believe him.
"Wasn't driving people to death against the rules? Wasn't that the reason why I was being punished?"
"But this is different," Lucifer sneered. "This is so you'll get to know that humans are not as weak as you think they are. That they don't break easily—"
"That's ridiculous," I snapped, turning to Michael.
He held my gaze. "It's allowed."
I snickered. "Unbelievable."
Lucifer, who seemed to be having the time of his miserable existence, continued.
"And, you will not interfere once death truly claims them."
Pain ripped through my ribs, dragging me between memories and reality.
"If you succeed, you will have your place back. But if you fail, then you will take my place and rot in hell for eternity."
I clenched my fists.
"For eternity," Lucifer whispered, honeyed and cruel.
A hoarse laugh clawed out of me and collapsed into a cough. Pain bloomed hot and real in my chest.
"So this was what it felt like," I rasped.
And why the hell was this human in the hospital and in so much pain?
I turned my head and saw the mirror across the room.
I stared.
The face looking back at me definitely wasn't mine.
It was too young and too pale. Shadows bruised beneath exhausted eyes. Dark hair fell messily over a forehead still marked by healing skin. Cracked lips. A hollowed expression carved by something old and heavy.
I swung my legs over the bed and stood. The room tilted, dizziness roaring, but I gripped the frame and forced myself upright. Closer.
The floor swayed—or maybe I did—as recognition hit like a blade.
"No," I breathed.
The boy from the rooftop stared back at me.
The same boy I had watched die.
I pressed my fingers into the glass, and then the memories slammed into me.
Well, some of it did. They were fragments.
Cold corridors swallowing sound.
Laughter that never turned away from me.
Hands shoving me forward. Lockers slamming shut.
"Freak."
"Crybaby."
"Waste of space."
A man's voice, sharp and unforgiving:
"A Graves never fails."
"A Graves never shows weakness."
"A Graves doesn't cave."
A woman's perfume trapped in photographs. Red carpets. Flashing cameras.
"I'll be back tomorrow."
"I won't leave you."
"You'll be okay with him."
Promises that never came true.
Then the name surfaced like a wound reopening.
Ethan Graves.
I staggered back, breath shaking. "So this was the human," I muttered. "How poetic. And pathetic."
I've always known Lucifer had a thing for humor and irony. But I didn't think he would stoop so low.
He just had to trap me in the body of a child who taught suicide was an escape route. How foolish.
A low sound came from beside the bed.
I turned.
A black dog sat there, watching me with eyes far too intelligent to be innocent.
I narrowed my gaze. "Corvus?"
His tail thumped once.
Then again.
I laughed—sharp, disbelieving. "You've got to be kidding me."
He huffed, offended.
Lucifer's laughter echoed faintly in my skull.
One way or the other, I had demanded and he had obliged.
My dear friend had already suffered enough. I couldn't leave him down there with that fox.
I dragged a hand down my face, feeling warmth beneath my palm. Pulse and weakness.
I, a mere human.
Death wearing the skin of a broken boy.
My other brothers above the sky and beneath hell would laugh their spirits out if they ever heard of it.
I straightened and faced the mirror again.
I snapped my fingers, as shadows danced before the mirror.
At least Michael had kept his side of the bargain.
I had asked for Corvus and half of my powers, and he had done exactly that.
Still, I despised the fragility of this body—the trembling hands, the emotions pressing too close to the surface.
But I would endure it.
I would play the part.
Twelve souls.
My lips curved into a faint, dangerous smile.
"Fine," I murmured to the boy in the glass. "Let's see how human you really are."
Death had never respected humanity.
I would learn how to wear it.
But I definitely would never bow to it.