Page 65 of Evermore (The Never Sky #3)

Thorne and Archer’s faces changed as the magical contact between them was broken.

Thorne shook his head, seeming more confused than ever.

“Nothing with Ezra. But I know when it happened. And we’re done with Aeris.

” He looked pointedly at Quill, whose fingers had tightened on mine.

“I’m telling you right now, Aeris is not your friend.

She’s the one that created the cavern in my house that you fell into. ”

“What?” Thea shook her head. “That can’t be right.”

“She’s not bad,” Quill said, dropping my hand. “I know you all want to hate her but she’s not. I would know. I can feel it.”

The second she broke away from me and that peace was gone, the Remnants hissed in my mind, stealing my breath.

Tuck knelt down, keeping a distance from her but bringing himself to eye level as he held up a hand.

“Aeris has spent countless lifetimes learning to manipulate the mind. She knows what to say, how to say it, when to cut off her emotions and when to let you feel them. Take my hand and let me show you.”

She hesitated, looking up at Archer of all people before she stepped forward.

Archer moved to her side and Thorne’s eyes met mine.

I nodded. When he’d asked about the bond between three, he meant to include Quill as well.

Something in saving Quill had done this.

Which hopefully meant it had nothing to do with Ezra.

She closed her fingers around Tuck’s and he smiled. “Are you ready? I’m going to show you how I can change how I am feeling. None of this is going to be real so don’t be alarmed.”

She nodded. “I’m ready.”

Neither of their faces changed as they stared at each other. You’d never know anything was happening had Quill not broken contact and stepped away.

“Do you see?”

“Can anyone do that?” she asked. “Or only good liars?”

He smiled, distorting the scar on his broad face. “You mean gods?”

“Same thing,” she said, kicking her toe in the dirt.

“I imagine people that are used to shoving away their feelings can move them around like that, and show you only what they want.” Tuck’s eyes flicked to me. “Care to try?”

“I’ll kick your ass, Tuck. God or not.”

“After a nap,” Thorne said, keeping his distance as his eyes flashed to Elowen. “I’m not even sure how you’re still standing.”

“Wait. So am I clear?” Archer asked, pulling his sleeve down to hide the Treeis mark. “We all agree that I’m not connected to the murdering ex?”

“Hey!” Thea swatted Archer’s chest. “Don’t forget some of us knew him before. He was fine. No murdering.”

“That’s because he didn’t know who he was,” I answered, spinning on my heel to walk inside. “I’m going to sleep for four days. If you need me, no the fuck you don’t.”

Thorne took a step in my direction but I threw up a hand to stop him. “Do we need a lesson in boundaries?”

He moved back.

“Such a good boy,” I said, swinging open the door as Archer chuckled.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“Shh,” Archer hissed, holding up a kitchen knife. “This part is incredibly important.”

I leaned against the doorframe, watching as he meticulously arranged thin slices of meat on a piece of bread, his tongue poking out in concentration.

The kitchen counter was covered in various ingredients, cheeses in different stages of being sliced, meats laid out like playing cards, and at least three different types of bread.

“Did you raid the entire pantry?”

“Elowen said I’m not allowed to dirty all her dishes at night anymore.” He grinned, not looking up from his careful meat placement. “So I’m being very selective about which ones I use.”

“I can see that,” I said dryly, eyeing the stack of plates beside him. “Very selective.”

The Remnants swirled over my arms, but I did my best to ignore them as I watched this ridiculous man treat sandwich making like it was an art form. I tried to focus on the absurdity of the scene rather than the shadows threatening to manifest.

“You know what your problem is?” he asked, reaching for a slice of cheese.

“Just one?”

“You’ve never had a properly constructed midnight sandwich.” He held up the knife again, using it to gesture as he spoke. “It’s all about the layers. The architecture. The vision .”

I snorted. “The vision?”

“Don’t mock my craft. This is serious business.”

“Oh, I can see that. Very serious.”

He finally looked up, his eyes bright with that boyish mischief I’d missed. “Want me to make you one? I’ve been practicing.”

“Practicing making sandwiches?”

“You sound like a bird repeating everything I say. Anyway, I had to find something to do while you were off having adventures without me.”

“If I’d had a choice…”

He forced a smile. “I know, Fingers. I know.”

A particularly violent surge from the Remnants made me grip the doorframe, my knuckles going white as I fought to keep the shadows from manifesting. They were desperate to break free. To destroy. To consume.

Archer immediately set down his knife, all traces of playfulness vanishing. He opened his arms. “Come here.”

I hesitated for a moment before stepping into his embrace. The Remnants hissed their disapproval, but his warmth seemed to push back against their cold fury. He hugged me tight, one hand coming up to cradle the back of my head.

“I’ve got you,” he whispered. “Whatever darkness is trying to eat you alive in there, whatever madness is screaming in your head, I’ve got you. We’ll figure it out together.”

I pressed my face into his chest, letting out a shaky breath. “Promise?”

“Always.” He pulled back just enough to look at me, his expression turning serious. “If I had to be bound to anyone in the world, I’m glad it’s you.”

I squeezed him a little harder. “Me too, Archie. But I’m fairly certain Quill is tangled up in this too.”

“It’s not a tangle. It’s fate. And we’re fine either way. It changes nothing.”

I pulled away from him, staring into his blue eyes. “I mean, it changes a little. We don’t really know what it means.”

“I’m fairly certain it means I’m going to protect you both. Which was always the plan.”

“But if Aeris is bad, why do something good?”

He shook his head. “I can’t think on an empty stomach.”

I smiled. “Good thing you’re a professional sandwich maker now.”

He stepped away to finish making his snack that was definitely the size of a full meal. “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“They say my father is dying.”

The words hit me harder than I expected. I remembered Aldus’s kindness, the way he’d tried to protect me when we’d been imprisoned together. “How long?”

“I’m not sure. Tuck says he hasn’t left his bed.” Archer methodically arranged cheese slices as if they held answers. “I don’t know what to do.”

I hopped up to sit on the counter beside his work. “Talk it through with me. What’s holding you back?”

“If I go there, they’ll try to force me to be the heir.

I don’t know the first thing about being royal.

I can barely remember which fork to use at dinner.

” He laid down another piece of cheese with careful precision.

“That was always Harlow’s domain. And what if they won’t let me leave? What if I get trapped in that life?”

“I’d never let that happen if that wasn’t your choice, Archer.”

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but you and I aren’t getting a lot of say about how things pan out around here.”

“I might have an ace in my pocket now.”

He whipped around with a mock gasp, knife in hand. “You’re sleeping with the enemy ?”

I rolled my eyes. “Calm down, Toes. No one is talking about sex here. But I do think Thorne’s actually on our team.”

“Listen, I’m not saying you’re wrong. But I’m also not sure I can trust that’s your choice and not some kind of manipulation.”

“See these tattoos?” I asked, as I raised the loose sleeve of my robe.

“These are my Remnants, like Alastor’s but not.

They speak into my mind and they hate him more than anything.

” My mind was filled with the potency of their hatred.

Not only for Thorne, but for me too. “If I was going to be manipulated, it would have been by them, I can promise you that.” I snagged a slice of bread and nibbled while I told him everything.

Alastor’s training. The meeting he’d had.

The madness. The Forgotten. I stood in that kitchen and poured my heart into explaining why Thorne’s return was my choice.

Even if it didn’t make sense. “We can’t live in the past, Archer.

We have to move on. We can do it together, but I think there could be something good that comes from seeing your father.

I won’t push you though. I’ll support whatever you decide and everyone else can fuck off.

That’s our mantra now. That’s how we survive. Together.”

He set his knife down, crossing his arms over his broad chest as he dipped his chin, blond hair falling over his eyes. “Okay. I can handle together. Though I’m not sure what good will come from visiting a stranger in an old castle.”

“How about something like closure. Like not having to wonder for the rest of your life what he might have said. He’s been kind to the Salt, you know. And he’s been sending food to the orphans.”

“Through Tuck, probably,” Archer muttered, but I could see him considering it.

“Maybe this is your chance to understand that part of yourself without having to commit to it. You could hear him out, see all your options, and still choose your own path.”

“That family bond…” he said quietly. “Even if it’s broken, it still aches sometimes.”

“Better to face it than regret not trying. And hey, maybe you’ll discover you have a natural talent for wearing fancy crowns.”

He snorted. “I’m handsome. Of course I have that talent.”

A small voice came from the doorway, “Did you make mine?”

We both turned to see Quill standing there in her nightgown, rubbing sleep from her eyes with one hand as she held her dog in the other.

“Of course I did, Pencil.” Archer’s face softened as he gestured to a carefully wrapped sandwich on the counter. “Only cheese, exactly how you like it.” He looked down to his wrist, checking the time on a watch that didn’t exist. “You’re five minutes late, you know?”

“Midnight snacks aren’t specific to a time,” she informed him, setting Boo down. She padded over, climbing onto the chair at the table. “Are you going to see your papa?”

“I don’t know yet, kid.”

“I never had a papa,” she said matter-of-factly, taking a bite. “Or a mama. Just Paesha and everyone here.”

The Remnants stirred at her words, but this time with an ache that felt almost like sympathy. I reached out to smooth her wild curls.

“Sometimes,” I said, looking at Archer, “the family we choose is better than the one we’re born to. But that doesn’t mean we stop hoping the others will choose better too.”

Archer leaned against the counter, looking between us. “When did you two get so wise?”

“Probably around the time you got so good at making sandwiches,” I teased.

“So yesterday,” Quill said, holding up her sandwich for inspection.

I’d only seen the castle gardens once before, through the windows during that formal dinner the night Aldus had gone missing.

Back then, I’d barely glimpsed the topiaries and hedges through the cold darkness.

Now, wildflowers grew in cheerful tangles, herbs sprawled across stone pathways, and fruit trees stretched their branches toward the sky without interference.

It seemed odd. To have so much color and vibrancy in a world where darkness clouded everything.

“My lady,” a woman said, appearing at my elbow with a tray of delicate cakes. “Perhaps the young miss would like some refreshments while she waits?”

Quill’s eyes lit up at the sight of the sweets, but she looked to me first for permission. I nodded, and she bounced on her toes.

“There’s a lovely tea room through there,” the woman said, gesturing toward glass doors that led back into the castle. “With an excellent view of the gardens.”

“Can I go?” Quill asked. “Please?”

“I’ll go with her,” Thea offered, already moving to follow the excited child.

Boo yipped at their heels as they disappeared inside, leaving Elowen and me to watch as Archer approached his father.

Aldus sat in a cushioned chair beneath a sprawling oak tree, wrapped in a thick blanket despite the warm day.

The change in the old king was stark. His shoulders curved inward, diminished by grief and likely loneliness. Maybe even guilt.

“When was the last time they spoke?” Elowen asked.

“As I understand it, they’ve only spoken once and it was when Archer was drowning in grief over losing his sister. He blamed Aldus, even though it wasn’t the king’s fault. I think a part of him still does, because if he’d come for their mother, things would’ve been different for all of them.”

“Hindsight can be so cruel,” Elowen said, giving me a pointed look before she turned her gaze back to the gardens.

We watched in silence as Archer moved across the grass, each step seeming to cost him something.

His usual confident stride had abandoned him, replaced by the cautious approach of a man walking into battle.

When he finally reached his father, they stared at each other for a long moment.

Even from this distance, I could see the tension in Archer’s shoulders, the slight tremor in Aldus’s hands as he gripped the arms of his chair.

Aldus pushed himself to his feet despite Archer’s obvious protest. For a heartbeat, they stood facing each other, and I found myself holding my breath. Then something in Archer’s posture changed, a subtle softening, a lowering of defenses, and Aldus stepped forward, pulling his son into an embrace.

I felt Elowen’s hand slip into mine as we watched them hold on to each other, both trying to bridge a chasm that had been uncrossable only days ago. When they finally separated, I could see them both wiping at their eyes, their gestures mirror images of each other.

And then I walked away. The moment I knew for sure Archer felt safe, that he’d chosen these moments for himself, I gave them privacy to find their path forward.

“Fancy meeting you here,” a voice rumbled from down the hall. For a second, I closed my eyes, preparing for battle.