Page 68 of Evermore (The Never Sky #3)

I pushed myself up to look at him, really look at him. Even in the dim light, I could see the struggle there, the constant battle between his need to protect and his effort to let me find my own way.

“I don’t want time anymore.” The words came out in a rush, surprising us both. “I don’t know how much longer I can keep fighting myself in the madness. The voices, they’re getting stronger, and I—” I swallowed hard. “I don’t want to waste whatever time I have left fighting what’s between us.”

His hands came up to frame my face, thumbs brushing away tears I hadn’t realized I’d shed. “Paesha?—”

“I know what I’m saying.” I leaned into his touch. “For once in our very long history, I know exactly what I’m choosing. It’s not mixed up with lies and deceit. It’s truly you and truly me and that’s all I want.”

“You’re not going to lose yourself,” he said fiercely. “I won’t let that happen.”

“You can’t promise that.”

“I can promise I’ll be here, whether you’re dancing in the rain or burning down realms.”

A laugh that was half sob escaped me. “Even if I burn you with them?”

“Especially then.”

I kissed him. Not the calculated seduction from the Forgotten, not the desperate clash of our reunion, but something deeper. Something real. His hands slid into my hair as he pulled me closer, and I felt the careful restraint he always maintained finally snap.

The kiss turned hungry, desperate, as if we could somehow anchor ourselves to this moment through touch alone.

His lips traced down my neck as I arched into him, and for the first time since the voices began their endless chorus, everything else fell silent.

There was only this, his hands on my skin, his breath against my throat, the solid heat of him beneath me.

“Stay with me,” I breathed against his mouth. “Whatever comes next… stay.”

He pulled back to meet my eyes, and the raw emotion I saw there stole my breath. “Always,” he promised, and when he kissed me again, I finally let myself believe it. Trust it. And him.

“You’re going to the castle again?” Thea asked, standing outside the giant carriage that was waiting for Archer, Quill and I.

“We have to,” Quill said, climbing into the carriage. “King Aldy promised to teach me a new dance today.”

Archer threw an arm over Thea’s shoulder. “You could come. It’s nice when we’re all there. I think it gives him a sense of family.”

“I do like it when he tells stories about your mother. But I’ve got a delivery to make first. Tuck brought another trunk this morning.”

“More supplies for your underground city?” I asked, watching her copper hair catch the morning light.

She nodded. “The tunnels under the Dancing Ghost are getting crowded. We may need to expand toward the old theater district soon.” Her eyes darted around, checking for listeners before continuing. “Three more families came through last night. They’re terrified of what the gods might do next.”

Their fear was valid. Ever since Aeris had transformed Requiem, its people had slowly disappeared into the network of tunnels Thea had been quietly expanding. What had started as a few hidden rooms beneath the Dancing Ghost had grown into a sprawling sanctuary.

“Tell Vincent I said hello,” Quill chirped from the carriage. “And that I miss his sweet rolls. But don’t tell Elowen I said that.”

Thea smiled. “The baker sends his love, I’m sure. He says the underground ovens aren’t quite the same, but he’s making do.”

“Need help with the trunk?” Archer asked.

“No, I’ve got my system down now. Besides, you can’t keep the king waiting.” She hugged him quickly. “Tell him I’ll try to make it for dinner.”

We watched as she disappeared back into the Syndicate house.

It still amazed me how she’d managed to create this secret network, right under everyone’s noses.

It helped that Aeris had gone missing. Though I suspected Minerva, Tuck’s friend, had something to do with that. That old goddess was something fierce.

“She’s doing good work,” Archer said quietly as we climbed into the carriage.

“And Tuck keeps the supplies coming,” I added, settling beside Quill. “Imagine if the people knew the gods were helping them hide from the gods.”

“Thorne helped me get more blankets for the children yesterday too,” Quill said, petting Boo who’d settled in her lap. “That feels like we’re winning.”

I lowered my chin, taking her hand. “We’re not in a war, Quilly, okay? We’re careful, but not setting ourselves up for something we could never win. You understand that right?”

“Yeah but if we were , Minnie said we’d win.”

“You’ve got to stop talking to her,” Archer said, digging into his bag to pull out a skein of yarn. “She scares me.”

Quill lifted a shoulder. “That’s why I like her. The scary ones are usually the ones you should be friends with. I had a scary friend once. Her name was Deyanira, huh Paesha? She’d probably kill you.”

“Quill,” I gasped. “She absolutely would not have.”

She smiled that ornery little smile. “She might’ve.”

“How’s the new hobby going?” I asked Archer with a smirk, hoping Quill would take a hint.

Archer held up the tangled mess of blue yarn with a scowl. “I don’t understand. The old woman in the market made it look so simple. ‘Just loop it through,’ she said. ‘It’s relaxing,’ she said.” He yanked at a particularly stubborn knot. “This is not relaxing. This is torture with string.”

I bit back a smile, watching him wrestle with what was supposed to be a scarf. He’d been throwing himself into one activity after another. Last week he’d tried to learn the lute. The broken strings were still scattered around his room.

I knew what he was doing, even if he wouldn’t admit it. He missed his twin. Part of his heart died the day she had, and though he’d let the sadness fade, there was still a void to be filled. Be it from sandwich making or otherwise.

The Treeis mark peeked out from beneath his sleeve as he worked, and something warm bloomed in my chest at the sight of it. Whatever that bond meant, whatever complications it might bring, it had given him back a piece of what he’d lost. A family. A purpose. People to protect.

“I think you dropped a stitch,” Quill said helpfully, leaning over to point at his work.

“I dropped my sanity about ten rows ago.” He held up the mess of yarn. “Does this look anything like a scarf to you?”

“Maybe if you squint?” I offered. “And turn your head to the left. And possibly drink some of that fancy whiskey your father keeps in the castle.”

“It looks like Boo got into the yarn basket,” Quill giggled.

“You’re both terrible critics.” He stuffed the yarn back in his bag with an exaggerated huff, but I caught the ghost of a smile playing at his lips. “Maybe I’ll try painting next. How hard can that be?”

“Says the man who lost a fight with string,” I teased.

His eyes met mine, and beneath his playfulness, I saw a flash of understanding pass between us. He knew I knew why he was doing this. Just as I knew he wasn’t ready to talk about it yet. So instead, I reached over and squeezed his hand, feeling the mark on my shoulder warm at the contact.

“At least you haven’t tried juggling again,” Quill said solemnly. “Poor Boo is still traumatized.”

“I think I’m still traumatized,” he said seriously.

“Aren’t you the most beautiful girl that ever was?” King Aldus asked, his hands clasped together as he looked down at Quill spinning in her new dress. The giant box had been waiting for her when we arrived.

“You’ll spoil the child rotten,” Minnie said, though there was no hardness to her tone, only delight as we all stood around watching Quill spin.

“King Aldy?” Quill asked, walking up to take the old man’s hand. “The dress is very pretty. But don’t you think my friends at Thorne’s house should have what they need before I have things I don’t?”

“Remember when she used to be creepy?” Archer whispered in my ear.

“Can you think of what’s changed?” I asked as King Aldus and Quill began plotting. “We haven’t let Aeris linger around and look at her smile.”

“Speaking of Aeris, I heard she came by the house a few days ago when we were here. Maybe we should start forcing Elowen to come with us. She can’t be left there alone.”

“Listen, Guardian. I’d love to see you try to force that woman to do anything. It won’t happen.”

“I could talk to her,” Minerva said, taking my side. “I have a way with mortals.”

I shook my head. “She won’t come to heel by force. No matter where you wave that cane.”

The doors to the ballroom flung open and Thorne came strolling in, hands in his pockets, eyes locked on mine.

Minerva huffed. “If anyone needs me, I’ll be somewhere else.”

“Love you too, Minnie,” he said with a smile before taking my side. “The council is ready, Aldus.”

“Five more minutes,” he said, clapping out a beat as Quill followed the steps he’d instructed.

He looked so much better than he had that first day in the garden.

The color had returned. There was a spring in his step even.

When he laughed, I could hear Archer in it, that same warm richness that filled a room.

“Son. She needs a prince for this next part.”

Archer stepped forward with no hesitation, wrapping an arm around his waist as he bowed low. “My lady, may I?”

Quill scrunched her face. “You see another prince around here?”

I didn’t miss the way his shoulders carried the weight of that title. We’d been avoiding the subject, of course, but it sat in the room with us all the same. The king had never once pushed him. He’d never given him any indication he would force anything on him.

Watching Archer struggle beneath the weight of that word made something in my chest ache.

Maybe my own silent battle. I knew he was the Guardian, but I wasn’t sure what that made me?

The damsel? Certainly not the reluctant hero.

Minnie had her own guesses, but as everyone dug into figuring out the reason for this bond, one thing was abundantly clear, this was new.

Uncharted territory. And likely not at all what Aeris had planned in that moment.

Before Archer became overwhelmed by the title, I stepped forward with an exaggerated curtsy to the old king. “Perhaps his majesty would honor me with a dance? Show these children how it’s properly done?”

The king’s eyes lit up. “My dear, I thought you’d never ask.” He took my hand, spinning me into position as he called out the steps. “One, two, three, see how it flows? The trick is in the timing.”

“I’ve danced a few times in my day, Your Majesty.”

“Of course you have. Now,” Aldus said, only loud enough for me to hear, “shall we rescue my son from his thoughts?”

Before I could answer, he spun me directly into Archer’s arms while he took Quill’s. The surprise on Archer’s face melted into a grateful smile as he caught me, falling into step without missing a beat.

I felt Thorne’s eyes on us as we moved across the floor, that familiar intensity in his gaze.

But he stayed where he was, hands in his pockets, though I could see the slight tension in his jaw.

The fact that he didn’t intervene, didn’t try to take control of the moment, said more than any words could have.

“You’re thinking too loud,” Archer murmured as we turned.

“Says the man drowning in princely duties he hasn’t even accepted yet.”

“Careful there, Fingers.”

I smiled. “Someone has to look out for you.”

“Speaking of looking out,” he nodded toward Thorne, “your god is doing remarkably well at staying put.”

“He’s learning.”

The music drew to a close, and Aldus clapped in delight.

“Magnificent! Though perhaps we should save some dancing for after the council meeting.” He turned to Quill, who’d been watching us with rapt attention.

“My dear, would you be so kind as to find Minerva? I believe she mentioned something about tea and cakes in the conservatory.”

Quill’s eyes lit up. “Can I bring Boo?”

“Of course,” Aldus chuckled. “Though perhaps warn the staff this time? He gave poor Agnes quite a fright last week when he stole the chicken from the table.”

As Quill bounced out of the room, Thorne finally moved from his spot to stand beside me. “The council is waiting,” he said softly.

I caught the slight edge in his voice, not jealousy exactly, but something more complex. “Such a good boy.” I said, patting his chest before taking Archer’s arm.

He snatched my arm and this time Archer stiffened, but said nothing. Thorne leaned down, his voice wrapping around my ear as he whispered, “For now, Paesha darling, but even I have my limits.”

I smiled sweetly. “Oh I know, I’ve been trampling all over them since we met.”