Page 20 of Evermore (The Never Sky #3)

Thorne

“ A eris just used her fucking magic on my house.”

“Did you get a little tickle in your ass to tell you that?” Tuck gave me a discerning look as he handed me a glass of whiskey.

I forced a smile as I took a swig of the drink, so immune to the burn I used to get, it might as well have been water. I swirled the amber liquid in my glass, watching the light dance across its surface, a familiar comfort in a universe that was spinning out of control.

“It’s nice to see you’re having a good time in the mortal king’s castle.”

Tuck leaned back in his leather chair, propping his boots up on the desk. “Gotta make the best of the situation.” He grinned, revealing a flash of white teeth against his dark beard. “Besides, the mortals know how to live. Have you tried the cheese they make here? It’s divine.”

“You hate cheese. And your humor isn’t going to work.”

He crossed his arms. “You always say that and you’re always wrong.”

“It’s not the same. She’s not dead. She’s still fucking here. She’s right there and I can’t do shit about it.”

“You could …”

The ache in my fucking chest at the thought of shutting this whole show down was nearly unbearable. There wasn’t enough power in the universe to do that now. “She’s never going to choose me. That ship has sailed. You weren’t there. You didn’t see the way she looked at me.”

“So buy her some damn flowers and say you’re sorry.”

I huffed, shaking my head. “Your suggestion is to lie to her again? I’m not fucking sorry, and you know that. I can’t simply apologize and make this right. She knows almost everything now. Every lie, every manipulation. She hates me, Tuck. And she has every right to.”

Tuck’s hard expression softened slightly. “I’ve watched you chase this woman through countless lifetimes. You’ve moved worlds for her. You’ve been beaten, broken, and conquered. Maybe it’s time to let her go.”

“I can’t,” I growled, my voice low and dangerous. “She’s mine. She’s always been mine.”

“Is she though?” Tuck challenged, standing to lean over his desk. “Seems to me she’s made her choice pretty clear. And it ain’t you.”

I whirled around, my power crackling at my fingertips. For a moment, I considered unleashing it all on Tuck. Consequences be damned. But he was right, and that knowledge burned worse than any wound. He knew I’d never hurt him.

“What would you have me do? Stand by and watch as she builds a life without me? As she falls in love with someone else?”

He sighed, running a hand through his long, brown hair. “This obsession? It’s fucking destroying you. And her. It’s destroying everything. Maybe it’s time for a change. Once and for all.”

I turned to stare out the window, watching as the sun burned down the streets of Stirling. I couldn’t let her go. I’d rather watch, haunt her every dream and thought, than be without her. “No. I can’t do that.”

Tuck sighed, his voice fading as he moved toward the door. “Then what’s your plan, genius?”

“I’ll find a way to win her back.”

He rubbed his temples. “How exactly?”

“I don’t know yet. But I have plenty of experience with her to figure it out.”

“You’re a damn fool if you think she’s anything like her other lives. She’s not going to lay down. She’s going to fight back.” He stepped back, chuckling. “She’s fucking ruthless.”

“Do you need a minute with your thoughts about my wife, Tuck?”

“Comments like that are exactly why Ezarius has the upper hand. He doesn’t let his feelings cloud his judgment with her like you do.”

“Well, then maybe it’s time to change the rules of the game.”

He shook his head and opened the door, walking out. “Let’s revisit this conversation when you finally realize she’s not here to play with you.”

“It’s annoying when you act like you know everything.”

“It’s annoying when you expect anything different from me. Now I need you to focus. I’m telling you, they are up to something.”

“The gods are always up to something and where Bella’s concerned, that’s a guarantee.”

“You need to shut her down. Ban her.”

I matched his stride, and he fell slightly behind my right shoulder. As was proper, but completely unnecessary, and he knew it. “My power isn’t strong enough right now. She knows that.”

“Then send her to the Forgotten,” he whispered.

“If I threw every annoying god into the Forgotten, I’d be alone.”

“Might be good for you.”

We strode through the castle’s winding corridors. It was the same as every castle of every mortal king. Cold stone imprisonment. Over the years, the wives had thrown portraits on the walls and rugs on the floors to try to hide the damn gray, but it was never enough to warm the place.

As we approached the council chamber, the hushed whispers of nobles and courtiers grew louder. Two guards flanked the double doors, their armor gleaming as they stood at attention. With a nod from me, they pushed the heavy doors open, revealing the chamber beyond.

At least this room had stained-glass windows.

A long, polished oak table dominated the center, its surface inlaid with intricate patterns of gold and silver.

A gift from a god, no doubt, but I couldn’t be sure which one.

Probably fucking Aeris, but that was only a guess.

Around the table sat Aldus’s most trusted advisors, their silk robes and jeweled fingers a clear display of what they believed to be wealth and status.

The Silk. The fuckers that’d all but abandoned this king when he’d gone missing sure sat nicely at his table.

Mixed in though, in scattered seats with far less wear on them, were members of the Fray.

Likely members that’d been hand chosen by Tuck as he infiltrated the king’s council.

Their eyes didn’t meet mine with as much disdain as the others, which was expected, though I was a notable member of the Silk in this fucking realm.

I’d built that reputation memory by memory, before making my bargain with Paesha.

The Silk sat rigid in their chairs as Tuck and I walked in like we owned the place. I couldn’t force my will onto the royalty in the realms. The Fates had seen to that ages ago. But I could smash the rest of these mortals like bugs now that I wasn’t trying to hold the damn veil in place.

Archer was right. I was a fucking asshole for holding the veil during that fight.

But he was also wrong. Because those men that killed Harlow weren’t ordinary mortals.

They were Ezra’s Unmade. His Guardians, bound to him.

Had I not been using the threadbare tendrils of my own power to twist their minds, that fight would’ve ended differently.

We would have lost more than one. Still the power was imbalanced, broken even, and almost every god blamed Paesha.

Tuck cleared his throat, staring at me wide-eyed. He glanced between the king and I once, expecting me to bow or something. I didn’t. Instead, I pulled out a seat and plopped down, folding my hands on the table as I took in the faces of his council.

They hated me. I hated them. Solid way to start. Though to them, I was a noble, here to shame them for the way they’d abandoned their fucking king when he’d gone missing. At least they were right about one half of that.

I had to hide my surprise when I noticed a familiar face at the table.

Minerva sat primly in her mortal guise. Her wrinkled face was a masterpiece of deception, every line and crease carefully crafted to portray a frail, elderly woman.

But her eyes betrayed her true nature–sharp, piercing, and filled with the knowledge of millennia.

Her silver hair was pulled back into a severe bun, not a single strand out of place.

As always, she wore a simple gray dress.

Its high collar and long sleeves, a stark contrast to the silks and jewels adorning the other council members.

Her gnarled hands were folded neatly on the table, the skin so thin I could see the blue veins beneath, pulsing with immortal blood.

What the hell was she doing here? Minerva hadn’t meddled in mortal affairs for centuries, preferring to remain in her libraries when she wasn’t pestering me about shit she thought I could have done differently.

She was the closest thing I had to a mother figure, but she was ruthless when she wanted to be.

Her presence here, in this mundane council chamber, set my teeth on edge.

But unlike the rest of these fuckers, she knew her place.

She knew when to push and when to back the hell off.

Aldus rose from his chair at the head of the table, the mortal king’s weathered face creased with worry lines that hadn’t been there before his imprisonment. The crown sat heavy on his brow. He cleared his throat, and the sound echoed in the suddenly silent chamber.

“My lords and ladies, I welcome you all to this council meeting. We face trying times, and I am grateful for your presence and counsel.” His eyes swept across the room, lingering for a moment on Tuck and me.

“As you can see, we have some unexpected guests with us today. I trust you will extend them the same courtesy and respect you would show to any member of this council.”

The council members shifted in their privileged seats, exchanging glances filled with a mixture of curiosity and suspicion. I could practically taste their unease, a sour note in the air.

Lord Bartholomew, a portly man with a face as red as his silk robes, was the first to break the tense silence. He leaned forward, his multiple chins quivering as he spoke.

“Your Majesty,” he began, his voice dripping with false politeness, “while we are, of course, honored by any guests you choose to bring into these hallowed chambers, perhaps you could explain why we have so many.”

“Why should our king have to explain any of his choices to you?” Tuck asked.

“The Salt have no say in the way we run this kingdom,” Bartholomew sneered.

“We?” I asked, tapping my boot to keep myself grounded.

“Did I stutter, Lord Thorne Noctus?”