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“I could—” Dorian’s expression twisted, his lips parting like he was about to argue, but I didn’t give him the chance.

“No,” I shook my head. “The High King needs me for something, which means Dante does too. I just have to let him think I’ve given in, that I’ve surrendered to whatever plan they have for me.

” Falling. I forced my shoulders back, steadying myself.

“Then I can take the deck. Once we get the cards, you’ll find Godwin.

He’ll know how to release the Archangels. ” Maybe.

Dorian’s nostrils flared. His hands flexed like he wanted to hit something, like he wanted to grab me and shake sense into me. “You trust my father?”

I nodded. This was the only way. Dorian’s jaw tensed. “You shouldn’t have to be the one to do this.” He didn’t reach for me, but his eyes did, like if I gave him a single sign, he’d stop me.

I didn’t.

“So, I find Godwin,” Dorian said at last.

“And I get the cards,” I agreed, voice steady despite the storm rising in my chest. I searched his expression. His eyes burned into mine, a violet storm so otherworldly.

Then, grimly, he nodded. “Let’s end this.”

The gates groaned open, the sound low and hollow, echoing into the night. Evermore did not resist me. It welcomed me back like I had never left. The outer sentries were recalled. Dante must have ordered the perimeter cleared for something.

I slipped through the entrance, my heart thundering. A chill skittered over my skin as the gates groaned shut behind me. Darkness coiled at the edges of the path, pressing against the corridors. I didn’t care to inspect it closer.

Tension locked in my chest. The Arcana Deck . That was all that mattered now .

I stepped forward, the crunch of frost beneath my boots the only sound. The world inside Evermore had gone still, far colder than was natural for this time of year. Even the sky and the stars seemed further away. It all felt like…death.

I made my way to the chapel, slipping through the iron doors, then keeping to the edges of the corridors.

My body moved on instinct, each turn, each step pulling me deeper into the place I had tried so desperately to escape.

I summoned the memory of ocean waves, a meditation trick I’d learned to blur surface thoughts. I needed to keep my mind focused.

The Sanctum’s great hall stood empty, except for him. Dante stood beside the throne, one hand braced against the armrest, his fingers curling and uncurling, restless, like he had been waiting.

His coat was undone, the sleeves pushed up. “You came back,” he said with a softness that prickled the skin on my arms. He paused in front of me, waiting. For me to run, for me to fight, to crack beneath the weight of everything I had learned.

I did none of those things. Instead, I stepped forward, like I belonged there.

The torchlight light carved his face in sharp relief.

I took in the inked rhunes along his forearms, the undone collar of his coat, the way his silver eyes burned through me like he could see every thought before I had it.

I could feel it then, his patience slipping, his figurative grip on the deck tightening. He thought he had me. He thought I had finally unraveled, that the game had ended exactly the way he planned.

He was wrong.

Just for a breath, hesitation snaked through me. I was attempting to trick the one person who had access to my mind in ways I didn’t understand. He wasn’t just two steps ahead, he had a view of the entire board. Compliance wouldn’t be enough, he’d see through that. I’d have to method act this .

I was playing my own game now. I just had to steady my thoughts enough that he’d believe it. I tilted my chin up. My voice was quiet, but unwavering. “I’m ready.”

“Ready for what, little thief? Say it.” The way he said my name felt like a challenge, like he was daring me to falter. I didn’t.

“To be what you need me to be.” I wasn’t asking for the Arcana. I wasn’t asking for anything at all. I was giving him exactly what he wanted, or at least, letting him think I was. “To Fall.”

His silver gaze flicked over me, searching, like he was trying to find the lie, but I knew he wanted to believe this moment was real.

And maybe, in some twisted way, it was. The space between us was charged.

I could feel the weight of his attention settling over me, heavier than his touch ever had been.

Then, Dante moved. Not to grab me. Not to drag me closer, but to reach for my chin. His fingers brushed against my jaw, tilting my face up, forcing me to look at him. Everything stilled inside me.

The illusion had to be perfect. I didn’t pull away, I didn’t flinch. I let him touch me, let him believe. My mind had to be convinced by this too, in case he could see within. I willed myself to want this.

His thumb ghosted over my pulse, lingering there. His touch felt inevitable, like a seal over something that had already been written. Then, in a tone sweet enough that it was almost lost in the space between us, he said, “That’s my girl.”