Death danced with me.
Black tendrils coiled around my wrists, gripped me closer, so I spun and twirled. His breath caressed my cheek. I wept, powerless. Out of options. Out of time.
Inexorable, compelling, a man dressed all in black. Elegant. Persuasive. Beautiful.
We whirled, the clearing transformed into a ballroom. My steps matched his. We were paired. Partners. We belonged together.
Except.
The stag did not agree.
An interruption. Graceful, gentle, with deep brown eyes.
He came to me. His antlers glittered in the moonlight. Against my will, my hands smoothed across his pelt. Warmth. I was chilled. Cold leaked from me.
Death stood waiting, hand extended. The moonlight caressed him, from the angle of his jaw to the edge of his pressed shirt. His coat clung to him, draped to display the delights he could offer. He tapped a polished shoe. Cold rippled off his skin.
The deer grunted. Nuzzled my skirts.
Absently, I stroked the creature’s head. Closed my eyes. Heard my heart beat. Bit my lip, a bead of blood forming.
With a sudden burst of strength, I flung myself atop the animal. He bucked, then raced towards the dawn. Away from the moonlit clearing in the forest, the black branches looming like a canopy. Removing me from the dance. From the choice.
I glanced over my shoulder. Saw Death standing, hand outstretched. Smiling. Knowing.
She’ll always choose me. It is her nature.
The answer lay in the stag’s loping gait, his warm brown eyes, his race towards the light.
Not while I am here.