Page 103 of Evermore

“I asked to marry Sylvie.” His voice was barely above a whisper. “Irri said yes. But Alastor? He saw clearer than any of us. He saw the war brewing between my brother and me after Ezra saw the worst path forward. He refused to let his daughter be caught in the middle.”

My heart stuttered. “He thought if you both left me alone?—”

“The balance wouldn’t break.” Thorne’s laugh was hollow. “I was so angry. So certain of my right to claim her, I tried to send Alastor to the Forgotten.” His fingers curled into fists. “But Irri stepped between us. She took the full force of my power. And Alastor, watching his Ever be banished…” He shook his head. “He left Etherium. And because he did?—”

“Sylvie fell,” I finished, understanding dawning like ice in my veins. “As a demigod, she lost her immortality.”

“Ezra and I followed her soul to the mortal realms. And my brother.” His voice broke. “He killed her. The first of so many deaths.”

He speaks the truth, Sylvie’s voice cut through my mind like a blade.But he forgot to mention how he stood and watched. How he did nothing as Ezra’s sword found my heart. Just as he’s done nothing every time since.

The weight of it all, the betrayal, the cascade of consequences, the centuries of death and rebirth, it pressed against my chest until I could barely breathe. Every death, every shattered life, all because one god couldn’t accept being told no.

Now you understand, Sylvie whispered.Why he must stay. Why he must know what it is to be forgotten.

I looked at Thorne, still standing at the window, his reflection fractured in the clouded glass. I wanted to hate him. I should hate him. But all I felt was an overwhelming sadness for all of us, pawns in a game that had spiraled so far beyond anyone’s control. He’d loved her. As simply as the clouds held rain and the sun held light. He’d only loved her. And he’d lost everything that day too. And then over and over again, until his soul broke. Every move he’d made was born from love.

Without thinking, I moved to straighten the candlestick he’d adjusted earlier. His soft, surprised laugh made something in my chest ache.

“I thought you were dedicated to undoing all my attempts at order,” he said.

I shrugged, not meeting his eyes. “Maybe some things deserve to be set right.”

34

Thorne

True to his word, Jasper returned with food. Though ‘food’ was perhaps too generous a term for the odd assortment laid out before us. Bread that seemed too perfect to be real, fruit that held impossible colors, and meat that still steamed despite the journey through cold fog. Nothing here was quite what it appeared to be, yet somehow it all tasted of home. Forgotten recipes and tricks of the trade no doubt. In that, perhaps Jasper had learned to thrive in the Forgotten.

We sat around a weathered table, the three of us sharing this strange meal in comfortable silence. Paesha tore into a piece of bread, closing her eyes at the first bite. The simple pleasure on her face fucking killed me. In such a small gesture, she was ravishing. And so far off limits, I had to force myself to look away.

“The sweet rolls are better on Tuesdays,” Jasper said, then frowned. “Or was it Thursdays? Anyhow, I think I baked these.” He shook his head, serving more of the curious meat onto Paesha’s plate. “Eat, Miss Paesha. You’re still too thin.”

She smiled, that genuine one that transformed her entire face. “As long as there are no apples in sight.”

The normality of it all was a blade between my ribs. How easy it would be to stay here, to let the rest of existence fade away until there was nothing but this, shared meals and quiet moments with her. No prophecies, no scheming gods, no centuries of pain between us. Simply peace.

But I knew I could never condemn her to that fate. She deserved more than a prison, no matter how comfortable. She deserved every chance at life and freedom, even if that freedom meant leaving me behind. That was our destiny. Her destiny, if Ezra was to be believed. And this place was mine.

Jasper’s eyes darted to the clouded window, watching the darkness deepen outside. “I should go,” he said, rising abruptly. “You mustn’t go out after dark. The things that hunt here…” He shuddered. “They’re hungry for more than memories.”

“You could stay,” Paesha offered.

He shook his head, already backing toward the door. “No. I’ve another round of food to distribute. I pay my dues around here. Help the folks that forget to eat. Routine is best.” His eyes met mine, and for a moment, perfect clarity shone through his usual uncertainty. “Keep her safe.”

“Always,” I promised, though we both knew my track record with that particular vow was less than stellar.

We stood together at the door, watching his figure grow smaller and smaller as he moved away. Neither of us invited him back tomorrow. We never told him the real reason we’d come. But Jasper had always respected unspoken boundaries. Even when he knew things were amiss in the Hollow, he never questioned. Always followed. A respectable man through and through.

After he left, and we returned to the small table in the room, I watched Paesha pick at the remaining food, studying the way the dim light caught in her hair, the graceful movement of her hands, the slight furrow between her brows that meant she wasarguing with the voices again. Whatever she decided, whatever path she chose, I would follow her lead. I owed her that much, at least.

She deserved to write her own story for once, free from the machinations of gods and fate. Even if that story ended with me trapped in this place of endless memories and forgotten dreams.

“You’re staring,” she said without looking up.

“Yes,” I admitted. No point in denying it.

She finally met my gaze, and the complexity of emotions in her eyes took my breath away. “Why?”