Page 186 of Evermore

Serene’s eyes narrowed, but she rose with fluid grace and joined us. “Your funeral.”

“No,” Paesha’s gaze found mine. “That’s already happened. This is something else entirely.”

In that moment, I knew with unshakable certainty that I would follow her anywhere, into battle, into darkness, into Death’s Court and beyond if necessary. Not because of destiny or ancient bonds, but because she was right. Because she deserved justice. Because Archer deserved to be avenged. And becauseI loved her with everything I was, everything I had ever been, everything I would ever be.

With a gesture, I widened the portal, feeling the familiar strain as reality bent to my will. The path to Etherium lay open before us, shimmering with golden light.

Without a word, the gods moved to encircle Paesha and Quill, their bodies forming a living shield that would hide them from the Fates’ sight. I found myself beside Tuck, his solid presence reassuring as we prepared to cross over. He caught my eye, and something passed between us—understanding, brotherhood, shared loss.

“Ready?” I asked Paesha, offering my hand across the small space between us.

“For him,” she said, as if those were the last soft words she’d speak that day.

“For him,” Quill said at her side. “And for us too.”

Together, we stepped through the portal, crossing from the mortal realm into the twilight world of Etherium. The familiar landscape spread before us, though it was changed from what it had been. It had darkened, edging toward true night. Structures that had stood for millennia were beginning to crumble at their edges. The signs of failing power were everywhere now, impossible to ignore.

We moved as one toward the Fates’ domain, the gods maintaining their protective circle around Paesha and Quill. No words were needed; we all understood the gravity of what we were about to do, the lines we were about to cross. Lines I’d happily obliterate for her. For them.

I ripped a door to the Fates, and as we stepped through, three figures materialized, their forms indistinct yet unmistakable.

“You returned? We’ve ended this.”

I shifted forward, drawing their attention to me, away from the shielded figures at our center. My power gathered aroundmy hands, through my body, eager to be unleashed. “We come seeking justice.”

“Justice? From us? If anyone deserves justice, it’s us. For the wounds of our torment. For being bound to this loom. You forget your place, Keeper.”

“Your place,” another voice hissed. “Your role.”

“Your boundaries,” the third finished.

My smile was all teeth and no humor.

Their attention shifted to the assembled gods. “And you bring others? To what end? Do you think numbers will sway us? That we’ll bend to your collective will?”

To their credit, the gathered gods remained silent, standing firm despite the pressure of the Fates’ displeasure bearing down upon them.

“Only the one with the power to break our hold on the Loom could hope to challenge us,” the Fates continued, their voices smug with certainty. “And she is bound to a mortal throne now. She can never set foot in Etherium.”

With a silent signal, the gods stepped aside, revealing Paesha and Quill standing at the center of our group. For the first time in my existence, I heard the Fates gasp in genuine shock. The sound was sweeter than any music I’d ever heard.

Paesha stepped forward, darkness swirling around her like a living cloak, her eyes burning with power and purpose. My heart threatened to burst with fierce pride and absolute devotion as I watched her, my Ever, my queen, my everything, come to break the godsdamned world.

“Hello, fuckers.”

58

Paesha

The Fates recoiled as if struck, their long, lanky-ass forms wavering like smoke in a sudden wind. The loom behind them groaned, fading in and out of focus in this strange realm.

“Impossible,” they hissed. “You cannot be here. The mortal throne?—”

“Binds me? Kind of how you areboundto your loom? Funny, my legs still work. My arms are good. Pretty sure I’m free.” I stepped forward, feeling the power surge through my veins like liquid fire. “You should really check your rulebook. I think you’ll find some amendments.”

Their gazes shifted between Quill and me, who stood tall despite her small stature, her chin lifted in defiance. Fear flickered across their ancient faces. It tasted like justice.

Their attention snapped to Thorne. “How? How did you hide this from us? We see all threads, all possibilities.”