Page 12 of Evermore

She didn’t answer and I stopped pushing. The gods would circle and she would learn.

I followed her line of sight down to Archer, letting the silence bloom between us until I couldn’t stand it any longer. “He’s really great once you get to know him. He’s funny, charming, and loyal to a fault. And I know that’s still in him somewhere. But I guess you’re right. We don’t lose part of our souls and walk away unscathed.”

She let the curtain fall and turned to face me, sliding her hands into her pockets. “You want to talk about the god?”

“It won’t solve anything.”

“So? I’m not trying to save the world here. I’m simply checking on you. Don’t do the thing.”

I drew back. “I’m not doing a thing.”

“How many years have we known each other?”

“Too many, if this is going to lead into a lecture.”

“You don’t let people in because you know doing that gives them the power to hurt you. But you did. And then he did. And now you’re not being honest with yourself about it. You’re standing there telling me you’re worried about Archer, but you’re not even slightly concerned for yourself? He’s going to be fine, but so are you. As soon as you realize broken stuff stays that way until you fix it.”

“There’s nothing to fix. Didn’t you hear what I said? Thorne’s a liar. He tried to bind me, Thea. He tried to force me to stay there.”

“But isn’t there… here? It’s one world, right?”

“Don’t you dare try to justify a single one of his actions.”

She cowered back. “I’m not. Calm down, gods. I’m only trying to understand it.”

I spun away, forcing my racing heart to calm. Forcing breaths to settle myself. To curb the mood swing from the remnants of Quill’s overbearing power. “I’m sorry. I just can’t talk about him.”

My gaze slid over the familiar things in my room. The faded quilt on the bed, handmade by Hollis when I first came to live here. The stack of worn books piled haphazardly on the nightstand and all over the floor, covers faded from countless rereads. The collection of oddities and trinkets lining the shelves, sparkly rocks, dried flowers, a bird skull, mementos of a lifetime spent surviving on scraps and treasuring every little thing. The only thing missing was a little chipped teacup. But maybe I didn’t need that anymore. Maybe I didn’t need any of this shit anymore. Maybe the costumes for the stage could burn and maybe the things I’d collected in a desperate need to have something to my name could all go. Maybe I wasn’t that person anymore, either. Maybe I had no idea who I was.

Something burned inside me as I took in these relics of my past, of the girl I used to be, a strange pressure building in my chest. It felt almost like the ache of homesickness, the yearning to belong. But the feeling grew like a storm surge, filling my veins with crackling energy. It was more than restlessness or wanderlust, more than the urge to shed my old skin. This was something elemental, a force of nature straining at the seams of who I was and who I’d been.

I rubbed my temples as a dull ache throbbed behind my eyes, building into relentless irritation. Everything felt too close, too confining, the once comforting clutter of my room now a chaotic mess, pressing in on me. I needed space, I needed to move, to release this building tension before it tore me apart.

Thea was there in an instant, her hand on my arm, staring into my eyes. “What’s wrong?”

I gritted my teeth, shaking my head. “Suddenly, everything is too much.”

We’re too much?

We’ve never been too much.

We’ve never been enough.

To make them stop.

To make them pay.

“What?” I snapped, spinning away to see where those voices had come from.

“Huh?” Thea asked.

“Did you say something?”

She took my hands. “I think you might need a nap.”

“I don’t?—”

Movement from the window caught my eye, and I turned to find Quill and Boo running across the yard toward Archer. Suddenly, nothing butthatmattered. Would she hurt him? Was he hurting her by hurting too much?