Page 59 of Evermore (The Never Sky #3)

He closed his eyes with a heavy sigh. “I’ve found you, loved you, and lost you a thousand times, Paesha. You’ve never once loved an amiable, shy man. But I was still myself with you. Even then.”

I drew back. “Tell me you tried to be amiable just once.”

He smiled and that fucking dimple showed beyond the dark stubble. “Maybe.”

“Let me guess. A barkeep. Oh, no wait, stable boy. No.” I snapped my fingers. “Oh my gods. You were a shy, little record keeper, weren’t you?”

“You didn’t even hate me in that life cycle. You didn’t notice me at all. Not until the building caught fire, and I saved everyone inside. Including you.”

I could feel the past life he spoke of weaving around my mind as if she stood at attention, eager to be remembered.

I followed him inside. “And let me guess, no one had any idea how the building caught fire.”

“Actually,” he said, shutting the door behind me. “Tuck ratted me out.”

I huffed a laugh. “That’s impossible. That would mean Tuck would have to be… Are you fucking kidding me?”

He spun to face me, palms out. “In his defense, he wanted to tell you himself.”

“I’m going to kill him. I watched the Cimmerians beat him half to death in the prince’s lair. How… What the fuck, Thorne. We almost got caught because of him.”

“First of all, you weren’t supposed to be down there. Second, he was never going to die at the hands of the Cimmerians. It was our best way in. I knew he wouldn’t have any of the gods down there that night because they were with Alastor. He was supposed to get in and get out.”

“And what lesson did we learn from that experience, Keeper?” I mocked.

“Never trust you and Archer alone,” he said without missing a beat.

“Hey, you leave Archer out of this. That man is a pure soul compared to your fucked up history. I can’t believe Tuck is a god. Liars. The lot of you.”

“If he were here, he would point out he never explicitly told you he was human. You jumped to that conclusion on your own. And then he would follow it by reminding you that you lied about your power as well.”

I rolled my eyes and walked toward a very questionable set of stairs. “So, you’re saying he’s about as insufferable as you are with his justifications?”

“No,” he answered with a lightness to his voice. “He’s far worse. Let me go first, please?”

A question. Not a command.

The inn’s interior was exactly what you’d expect from a forgotten building—dust, decay, and an eerie emptiness that made every footstep echo.

Thorne led me up a creaking staircase, testing each step before letting me follow.

We found a room that was relatively intact, with a bed that looked mostly stable and a window that somehow still held glass, though it was clouded with age.

“There’s another room down the hall.” I said, dropping my cloak on a rickety chair. “The door was partially open.”

He gave me a flat look. “I’m not leaving you alone in this place.”

“Afraid I’ll run off into the night and get eaten by whatever horrors Jasper warned us about?”

“Yes, actually.” He moved to straighten a crooked painting on the wall.

I immediately walked over and tilted it back.

The dust swirled in the air as we moved around each other in the dim room. Thorne reached for the heavy curtain, pulling it back to let in more of what passed for light in this realm. I waited for him to cross the room before I put it back.

“So this singing we’re supposed to avoid,” I said, watching him straighten a candlestick on the mantel. The moment his back was turned, I rotated it slightly to the left. “That’s Irri?”

“Most likely.” He moved to adjust a chair that sat at an odd angle.

I waited until he’d walked away before nudging it back with my foot. My heart shouldn’t have fluttered when his lips twitched at the sound of wood scraping against stone.

He’s playing you , Sylvie hissed.

“Shut up,” I snapped back, before realizing I’d said the words out loud. “Sorry,” I whispered. “That wasn’t meant for you.”

“You don’t have to be sorry.” Thorne ran his fingers along a row of books, arranging them by height. “Irri’s song was always haunting. Beautiful in a way that made your soul ache. She could take the most broken things and make them feel whole again, even if just for a moment.”

I crossed the room and pulled one book halfway out, disrupting his careful arrangement. His exasperated sigh sent an unexpected warmth through my chest.

“She doesn’t sound particularly threatening,” I drawled, watching him fidget with the window latch. “For all this warning about covering our ears.”

He turned to face me, and something in his expression made me still.

Gone was the careful mask of control, replaced by genuine uncertainty.

“She wasn’t. Not really. But this place…

” He gestured at the twisted architecture around us.

“It probably changes people. She was the Goddess of Broken Things. Now she’s surrounded by everything that’s ever been forgotten or lost. I don’t know what that kind of power might do to someone, even a god. ”

I leaned against the wall, studying him. “You’re worried she’s absorbed it all? That’s why everything is broken here?”

“Or that it’s absorbed her.” He smoothed a wrinkle from the bedspread.

I immediately sat on it, earning a look that was somewhere between amusement and frustration.

“She was gentle once. Kind. She could look at the most shattered pieces of existence and see how they might fit together again. But here? I don’t know. ”

The vulnerability in his voice caught me off guard. This wasn’t the all-powerful Keeper speaking, but someone genuinely worried about what we might find.

“And you’re telling me this because…?” I watched him adjust a vase of long dead flowers, fighting the urge to knock it over completely.

He’s trying to manipulate you , Winter warned.

“Because I need your help,” he said quietly, and the simple honesty in those words made my breath catch.

I slid off the bed and moved to the vase, turning it slightly askew. “You’re asking for my opinion? You? The god who thinks he knows everything?”

“Yes.” He reached past me to right the vase again, his proximity sending unwanted shivers down my spine. “I am.”

“Will wonders never cease,” I murmured, but my usual sarcasm felt hollow. The silence stretched between us, heavy with unspoken things. He moved to straighten a crooked table runner, and I found myself watching his hands, remembering how they felt against my skin.

Focus , a chorus of voices hissed in my mind.

“There’s a reason Alastor let you come with me and it wasn’t to do either of us a favor. I think we’re going to have to use your Huntress power to find her.”

I stilled, my hand halfway to messing up another of his careful arrangements. “I’ve never seen Irri nor have I touched her. That’s not how my power works.”

“But Sylvie has and Alastor knows she’s in your mind. She knows her mother’s essence better than anyone.”

Say you’ll do it.

“But why was Irri banished in the first place?” I asked, turning back to him. “If she was so gentle, so kind, what could she have possibly done to deserve this?”

Something dark passed over his features. He moved back to the window, his shoulders tight with tension. “I did something unforgivable. I let my pride, my need to possess what I thought was mine, destroy everything.”

“What did you do?”

“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.”