Page 91 of Evermore

Let him trust, Sylvie agreed.Then leave him. He will open the door, but only you and Mother will walk through it.

I wasn’t naïve enough to believe the demigod living in my mind, wrapped around my power, wasn’t making her own selfish moves. I just questioned how far this went for her. When it ended. I needed to be careful with my thoughts, though. I’d only recently discovered a tiny space in my mind where they didn’t tread and it was the only place I could let myself be truly free of all manipulation. His, their’s, Alastor’s. One tiny spot that was only mine as I fought a battle on all sides.

A sound like distant screaming drew closer. Thorne grabbed my hand as shadows deeper than the darkness began to move with purpose around us.

“We need to run,” he said urgently.

Something ancient and hungry unfurled in the path ahead. In that moment of quiet, in that small untouched corner of my mind, I wondered if either of us would survive what was to come.

30

Thorne

“Run!” I urged, yanking Paesha forward. The twisted obsidian spires of the Forgotten loomed on either side, their jagged edges clawing at the unnatural darkness pressing in from all directions. Paesha stumbled. Her breath came in sharp gasps, but she didn’t falter. Her Remnants clung to her like a second skin, pulsing in time with the erratic drum of her footsteps.

“I don’t suppose this delightful little sprint comes with a map?” she panted, sarcasm still sharp despite the naked fear in her stunning eyes. “Or can you whip one up and throw it in your book for me?”

“If there was a map, it’d be written in the blood of fools who thought they could master this place,” I called over my shoulder, urging her to keep pace as I tugged on her hand. The only lifeline between us.

I focused on navigating the treacherous terrain. Dark chasms yawned mere inches from our pounding feet, so deep the light quickly died within their depths. One misstep, one stumble, and we’d be lost to the ravenous dark. She knew that, of course. She could see it, but her wit had always been her shield for fear. And I was glad for it. At least it wasn’t hatred.

A low whisper slithered through the gloom, insidious as hemlock. “You’re going to lose her. Like you always do. Like you deserve.”

Paesha shuddered, a moan catching in her throat. “Please tell me you heard that. I don’t think my regularly scheduled mental breakdown has room for a new voice.”

“I heard it.” I caught her elbow, steadying her as we ran. “That’s not the kind of second opinion you want rattling around in your head, trust me.”

“Oh, you mean like the parade of murdered lovers already keeping me company? That kind of second opinion?”

Despite the barbed words, she pressed closer, her Remnants reaching for me like seeking tendrils. Comfort and accusation, all tangled up in the space between us. Story of our godsdamned lives.

The whispering grew louder, a cacophony of malice boring into my skull as we fled deeper into the labyrinth of twisted stone.

“You know what’s coming, don’t you?”

Beside me, Paesha let out a choked scream, her stride faltering. The Remnants around her lashed out in blind panic, gouging smoking furrows in the obsidian ground.

“Dammit!” My stomach lurched as I skidded to a halt, gripping her shoulders to keep her from crumpling to the ground. Her eyes shot back and forth, beyond me, seeing horrors I could only imagine. “Listen to me. It’s not real. Do you hear me? It’s not fucking real. Fight it! Don’t you dare let it break you!”

But she was already slipping away, drowning in the fears the Nullweaver dragged to the surface. I could feel the creature behind us, a seething mass of dread and hunger, gorging itself on her terror as we sought to escape its grasp. I shot a glance over my shoulder and then back to her.

I slowed my voice. Slowed my pace until we were stopped. “Come on, Paesha, darling. Look at me. Remember me.” I gripped her chin, forcing her gaze to mine. Tears streaked her ashen face, her pupils blown wide with panic. “You’re stronger than this. Stronger than it.” Logic. She needed logic. “Whatever it’s showing you isn’t real. It’s your greatest fear. It’s called a Nullweaver. Its single purpose is to find your fear and make you live it until you cannot feel anything else. It’s just a vision. Just a voice.”

For a single, breathless moment, clarity sparked in those haunted depths. Her hands scrabbled at my chest, fisting in my shirt. “Thorne…”

“She will betray you. She will be your end.”

“Shut up,” I snarled at the voices, at Ezra’s ghost. At the words he’d hissed into my mind as we escaped the Vale. Losing her had always been my fear. “You don’t get to win. Not this time.”

I gathered Paesha close, pouring every ounce of will into the space between us. Into the bond that had sustained us through lifetimes of love and loss. With a roar of effort, I gripped the Nullweaver’s mind and shoved terror down its throat, choking it on the fear it craved. On the memory of every horror it’d ever tasted.

The creature reeled back, its countless eyes blinking in shocked confusion. I’d only ever seen it in my peripheral, but as it exposed itself, I saw it for what it truly was, a serpent and nothing more. How fucking fitting.

“That’s enough,” Paesha whispered, but her voice grew stronger. “Maybe you didn’t hear me. I said that’s enough.” Her head snapped up, clarity and rage burning away the shadows haunting her gaze until she broke from my arms and turned to face the Nullweaver, hands gripped into fists at her sides. A beast in mortal form. A godsdamn warrior.

“Get out of my fucking head,” she growled. Her Remnants swarmed the monster, tearing into it with savage precision. Practically a goddess, taking on a thing of nightmares. Something my brother and I had only ever trapped and never killed. “You want my fear? You can choke on it.”

The creature’s shrieks battered our ears, its body shriveling beneath the onslaught of Paesha’s unleashed power. I watched in awe as she ripped it apart, a storm of midnight death with vengeance in her eyes and my heart in her hands.