Chapter 14: "The Rivalry"

CULLEN’S POV

 A blaring car horn shattered the stillness of the morning, jerking me out of sleep. My brows furrowed in irritation. Whoever that was, I already hated them.

I blinked, adjusting to the light streaming through the window—then realized I had fallen asleep beside Paige. She was still curled up, sleeping soundly, her breathing steady and calm. Thank God.

I stood up quietly and made my way downstairs, each step heavy with annoyance. When I reached the front door and looked outside, my fists clenched. I recognized that car.

Before I could even open my mouth, his smug face appeared from the rolled-down window.

“I’m here to pick up Paige,” Keres said coolly—but his eyes betrayed something darker. I hated that look. That calm arrogance.

“She’s still sleeping. She’s not feeling well,” I said flatly, biting down the urge to slam the door in his face.

His expression twisted with irritation. “She can’t be absent today. She has an important shoot.”

Before I could shut him down, Paige appeared behind me, clearly just out of bed—hair tousled, eyes wide.

“I’m sorry, Keres. Can you wait five minutes?” she called out, flustered and breathless.

I shot her a sharp look. Didn’t I tell her last night not to go with him? Did she even listen? Rage simmered beneath my skin.

My fists curled at my sides as I turned to head back up, but before I could say anything, she dashed past me.

She paused for a moment at the door, turning to me with concern in her eyes.

“I’m so sorry. I’ll message you once I arrive,” she said, then rushed out with barely a glance back.

My blood ran cold.

Hardheaded woman.

I took a deep breath and stared out the window, trying to calm the storm in my chest.

Cullen, let her do her thing, I told myself. You can't control her life. But a deeper voice inside me, a voice I hadn’t heard in years, whispered: Protect her.

I stood there, motionless, until a sudden chill swept through the room like a silent warning.

I didn’t have to turn around to know who it was.

“Thanatos,” I muttered.

He emerged from the shadows like a storm in human form—tall, cloaked in darkness, his presence suffocating.

“Cullen,” he said in that commanding, cold tone only the god of death could own.

I met his gaze, but something was different this time. There was a flicker of concern in his eyes.

“Keres is here,” he said.

My eyes narrowed. He knows Keres?

“How do you know him?” I asked, already dreading the answer.

“He is my son,” Thanatos answered without emotion.

Shock slammed into me.

“What is a god of death’s son doing here? Why in the human world?”

He looked away for a second, then sighed. A rare sign of weariness for a god.

“Take her away from him,” he ordered.

I blinked. “Who? Paige?”

Thanatos’s voice dropped an octave. “You shouldn’t have interfered with the human world. You’ve made her visible.”

I stepped forward, my voice desperate now. “Why? Why does Keres know her? What does he want?”

Thanatos clenched his jaw. “He’s here to take her soul. On the full moon. That’s tomorrow.”

Time stopped.

The air was sucked from my lungs. No. Not her.

“I—why? Why her?” I asked, voice cracking.

Thanatos moved closer, pulling two black jade bracelets from his cloak—one larger, one smaller.

“Give one to her. Wear the other yourself,” he said sternly. “Don’t ask questions. Just do it.”

My fingers closed around the cold jade as he continued.

“Get her out of Germany. I have a contact in Switzerland. You’ll stay there until I say otherwise.”

He paused, then added something I never expected to hear.

“I’ll let you finish what you’ve started.”

And with that, he vanished into thin air, leaving behind only silence—and the crushing weight of time running out.

My head spun. Every part of this felt unreal. But I couldn’t afford doubt now.

I grabbed my phone and booked two tickets to Switzerland.

But the hardest part was still ahead:

How do I convince Paige to leave everything behind with me?

And more importantly... how do I get her to believe that Death itself wants her?

PAIGE’S POV

   My heart pounded with panic. I was late—and the silence in the car was deafening. Keres gripped the wheel tightly, eyes straight ahead, jaw clenched. He hadn’t said a word since I got in.

“I’m really sorry,” I finally whispered, breaking the silence.

He glanced at me, the corner of his lips curving into a smile—but it didn’t reach his eyes. There was something guarded in them. Something I couldn’t name.

“I’ll accept your apology…” he said quietly, “…if you’ll go out with me tomorrow night.”

My chest fluttered. I wasn’t sure if it was nerves or surprise. I gave him a small smile and nodded.

The air lightened just a little, but not enough to settle the unrest in my chest.

I quickly sent Cullen a message: 

“Sorry. I really need this job.” 

Then I hit send.

I inhaled deeply, trying to push everything aside. I needed to focus. We had a shoot today, and it was important. My morning had been calm, thanks to Cullen. I slept better than I had in weeks.

Just thinking of him made my heart skip.

Then my phone beeped.

Cullen.

“I have an important business trip. I don’t know when I’ll be back. My secretary’s sick—I need someone I can trust. I have no one else but you.”

My heart raced. What? Me?

Before I could process that, another message came through:

“I’m outside.”

Wait—what?

I walked over to the window on the 10th floor and looked down. There he was. Parked outside. Waiting.

A flood of questions rushed in, but somehow, my body was already moving. Elevator. Ground floor.

“Where are you going?” Keres called out as I passed him.

“Cullen’s outside,” I replied without thinking.

His face darkened. His usually calm eyes sharpened—dangerous now.

“I’ll be back,” I added quickly and walked faster before he could stop me.

When I stepped outside, Cullen didn’t even get out of the car. He just leaned over and pushed open the passenger door. I got in.

The car moved the moment I shut the door.

“Wait—where are we going?” I asked, voice rising. “I have a shoot in an hour!”

“We’re leaving,” he said flatly, staring ahead.

“What?” My voice cracked with disbelief. “Cullen, are you serious right now? You can’t do this! I need this job. My siblings depend on me!”

I could hear myself unraveling. Desperation made my voice shake. “You can’t just pull me out of my life like this!”

“We’ll figure that out when we get there,” he said, still cold. Unmoved.

Then he added, almost like a dagger to the chest, “Think of this as your way of saying thank you—for saving your life.”

That stung. More than anything he’d said before. 

So that’s what I was now? A debt to be repaid?

I turned my face to the window. Tears blurred my vision. I didn’t want him to see me cry. The snow outside was falling harder now, white veils covering the city.

The cold outside couldn’t compare to the frost creeping into my chest.

We pulled over somewhere unfamiliar. He got out, came around, and handed me my passport. Then he held out a bracelet—black pearls with a strange shimmer.

“Wear this,” he ordered.

I stared at it. “What if I don’t?” I snapped, tired of being yanked around like a puppet.

He looked me dead in the eyes. “Then you’re dead.”

I froze.

Was he serious? There wasn’t even a hint of emotion on his face.

No argument left my lips. I took the bracelet with trembling hands.

At the airport, everything was… normal. Like we were just two travelers. Two ordinary people.

But nothing about this was ordinary.

We boarded a flight. Business class. I sat stiffly beside him, arms folded, face turned away.

“Rest,” he said, his voice low.

I said nothing.

He might’ve saved my life, but right now… 

I hated him for taking control of it.

CULLEN’S POV

The silence inside the car was suffocating, but not as much as the thought gnawing at my chest—she doesn’t know she’s in danger. She thinks I dragged her out of that building because of pride, or worse, jealousy. But if only she knew the truth. If only I could tell her everything.

She hasn’t said a word since we left. Her arms were crossed, her body pressed against the car door like she was trying to escape through it. I saw her wipe her tears, and I swear, it gutted me.

But I had no choice.

She doesn’t know Keres. She doesn’t know what he’s capable of. She doesn’t know that this isn't about love triangles or misunderstandings.

It’s about death.

Her death.

Thanatos was clear—Keres would take her soul under the full moon. That’s tomorrow. Time isn’t on my side. I needed her far away. Away from him. Away from the hunt.

When I stopped the car, I handed her the bracelet. She looked at it like it was poison. And maybe in her eyes, I was the one poisoning her life.

I hated the way she looked at me—like I betrayed her.

“Wear that,” I said, forcing calm into my voice. “Please.”

“What if I don’t?” she challenged.

My jaw clenched. I didn’t want to scare her more than I already had, but the truth was brutal. “Then you’re dead.”

She recoiled. I saw it in her eyes—something inside her cracked. And maybe it was the part that trusted me.

I didn’t explain further. Not because I didn’t want to… but because I couldn’t. If she knew the weight of it all, if she knew that Keres was Death’s son, if she knew she was marked for the afterlife… how would she even look at me again?

When we reached the airport, I tried to make it look normal. She walked beside me like a stranger, cold and distant. She didn’t speak a word when we boarded. I booked us in business class, thinking she deserved at least that much comfort. But she turned her head toward the window and didn’t look back.

“Rest well,” I said, barely above a whisper.

She didn’t answer. Her silence screamed louder than anything else.

And now, I sit here, next to the only woman who’s ever made me feel human again… wondering if she’ll ever forgive me for saving her life.

We arrived in Switzerland, where winter painted everything in quiet elegance. Snow blanketed the world like a soft white quilt, and even in the cold, the scenery stole my breath away—majestic mountains stood guard over silent villages, and pine trees shimmered under layers of frost.

I glanced at Paige—she was awake now, her expression unreadable as she stared out the window. The silence between us was colder than the snow outside.

A black van was already waiting at the curb. A man in a long coat held a placard with my name.

We stepped inside the van, and the driver greeted us politely, “Welcome to Switzerland, Sir Cullen.”

I offered a tight nod, my thoughts too tangled to respond with warmth. Paige didn’t say a word either. She kept her distance—physically and emotionally.

After a few hours of winding roads and silence, we arrived at the estate. It rose like something out of time—a grand, vintage mansion that looked both timeless and untouched. Ivy curled along the stone walls, and snow perched neatly on the rooftops. It was far bigger than I expected. Quiet. Isolated. Safe... I hoped.

But one glance at Paige told me—this wasn’t home to her. Not yet. 

I wanted to reach out to her. To say something—anything—that could soften the silence between us. But how do you comfort someone when the truth is a blade you can’t unsheathe?

She sat by the fireplace, her arms wrapped tightly around herself. Not from the cold, I knew that. Her silence was louder than any words she could’ve hurled at me.

I stood there, useless in the grand halls of a foreign mansion, watching her back like it was the last page of a book I was too afraid to read. I stepped forward, each breath catching in my throat.

“Paige,” I said gently.

She didn’t look at me.

“I know you’re angry… and confused.”

Still nothing. Only the soft crackling of fire and the weight of distance that used to feel like closeness.

“I didn’t mean to drag you here like that,” I continued, my voice almost a whisper. “I just...”

That last word—it almost betrayed everything. But she caught it. I saw her spine stiffen.

“just what?  I thought you are going to a business trip, is that just an excuse?” she finally asked, her voice quiet but sharp.

I froze. The truth danced on the tip of my tongue. Keres. The full moon. Death. But instead, I swallowed the storm.

“Just… trust me,” I managed. “Please.”

She turned to me then. Her eyes glossy, wounded. But it wasn’t just betrayal I saw—it was disappointment. And that pierced deeper than anger ever could.

“I trusted you,” she said, her voice cracking. “But you took away my choice.”

And she was right. God, she was right.

I looked away, ashamed. “I’ll fix it. I’ll find a way to make it right.”

She didn’t answer.

So I sat down, just far enough not to crowd her, and stayed.