Paris and the Reaper

I was given the name Paris at birth.







So far, I've lived up to it; or rather, down to it. Too pretty, too unfocused, too easy a target. My father even tried to sacrifice me.







And then I was saved by a beautiful, haunted man.







Mac is a reaper; he delivers lost souls. But when he came for mine, I wouldn't let go. And now I can hear other souls too. I can help him. Love him, if he'll let me.







Assuming we survive a conspiracy to bring Chaos through the veil.







Mac says souls get what they deserve. If I do enough good, then maybe I can be worthy of his. Maybe I can hold on to him and our bond-forever.







Contains mature themes.