Page 75 of Evermore (The Never Sky #3)

Thorne

S he moved like a shadow through starlight, stepping onto the rooftop of the Syndicate house with that dancer’s grace that still made my breath catch.

I’d been sitting up here for hours, watching the moon track across the sky as I tried to make peace with her bargain.

With those ten precious years she’d given away as if they meant nothing.

As if I hadn’t spent centuries fighting for every moment I could have with her.

“You’re brooding again,” she said, settling beside me on the edge of the roof.

“I do not brood.”

“Really?” She bumped her shoulder against mine. “Then what do you call sitting alone in the dark, staring moodily at the stars?”

“Strategic contemplation.”

Her laugh, low and warm, did things to my careful control. “Is that what the gods are calling it these days?”

I turned to look at her, drinking in the sight of her profile gilded by moonlight. “Dance with me,” she said suddenly, rising to her feet and holding out her hand.

“Right now?”

“Afraid of heights, Husband?”

The challenge in her voice made something possessive stir in my chest. She hadn’t called me that since she’d learned the truth of who I was. I took her hand. “Afraid of you, maybe.”

“Good.” She stepped into my arms with easy familiarity, and my body responded instantly, hardening. Fucking aching. “You should be.”

We swayed together beneath the stars, no music but the sound of crickets and distant birds. Her head came to rest against my chest, and for a moment, I let myself pretend we were simply a man and woman dancing.

“Talk to me,” she said softly. “I can feel you thinking too hard.”

I remembered all the times I’d held her like this in other lives, other dances. “Ten years is a long time, Paesha.”

“Or a very short time, depending on your perspective.” She lifted her head to meet my gaze. Her eyes flicked away and back again so quickly, if not for my obsession with every move she made, I might not have caught it. The sign of her madness, if we could call it that. “You’re immortal, remember?”

“And you’re not.” The words came out rougher than intended. “You’ve never lived past thirty-five in any life. Never. And now you’ve given away a third of what little time you might have had.”

“To protect Archer.” Her fingers curled into my shirt. “To keep him safe. You must see how that was the right move.”

“I would have torn Vesalia’s mind apart first.”

“And started a war we can’t afford to fight.

” She rose on her toes, pressing a kiss to the underside of my jaw.

“Sometimes the only choice you have is which pain to bear. I stood in Alastor’s office right beside you when Ezra shot that arrow.

I saw the look in his eyes. Ten years was nothing compared to everything else happening. ”

I caught her hips, stopping our dance. “About that. There’s something else I need to tell you. About Archer and this whole throne situation.”

She looked up at me, curiosity in her eyes. “Okay?”

“When you were with Alastor, Minnie and I went to see the Fates.”

Her breath caught, and the Remnants rippled. “The Fates? Are you insane?”

“Yeah, well, I was desperate. I’d do anything to help rid you of the voices.”

As I spoke, the marks on her arms surged violently. She gasped, doubling over against me, her nails digging into my arms. The Remnants were clearly pissed at the idea of being silenced.

“That’s exactly why I haven’t mentioned it. I’m sorry. For all of it, but it’s something you should know.”

“It’s fine.” She squeezed her eyes shut and took several careful breaths before straightening. “So what happened? Did the Fates laugh in your face or try to kill you on the spot?”

“Both, actually.” I brushed my lips against her temple. “But then they offered me a deal. They’ll hear my request for help.”

Another wave of shadows surged across her skin, and she bit back a cry. I held her tighter, wishing I could rip the voices from her mind myself.

“Let me guess, they want something in return?” she asked, her voice strained.

“Do you want to know or do you want me to stop?”

“I said I’m fine,” she ground out.

“They want Archer. On the throne.” I pushed her hair back, watching the war being waged in her eyes. “They won’t even talk unless he becomes king.”

She shuddered against me, her eyes flashing dark before clearing. “So the Fates are invested in Stirling politics now? And if they decide to tell you to go fuck yourself even after Archer puts on the crown?”

“Then I find another way.” I tangled my fingers in her hair, holding her face close to mine as the shadows danced across her features. “I should have told you sooner.”

“It wouldn’t have changed anything. And despite it all, you pushed a conversation between father and son and nothing more.

He’s taking that throne because it’s his choice.

That’s all I would have asked of you. You let him find his own way into accepting his father.

If you’d have told me, and I was deeper into that madness from the start, I might’ve been selfish.

And when it comes to him, I never want to be. ”

I pressed my lips to her temple. “That would be the Treeis bond speaking. I think he’s the shield, Quill’s the heart, and you’re always going to be the extra piece that was never supposed to step in and supplement his power. You’re the sacrifice.”

She shook her head. “I’m only what I’ve always been. His friend. I just wish we knew why this happened. Why the Fates want him on the throne.”

“If I had a jewel for every time I wondered why the Fates do what they do, I’d bathe you in a realm of diamonds.

It’s not the Fates I’m worried about. They know shit, but they are relatively harmless.

Ezra’s something else entirely. The Fates weave the threads, but Ezra is pulling at them, twisting the design into something only he understands.

And we are left grasping at frayed edges, trying to piece together a reason. ”

“Ezra saw that I, meaning the Huntress, would break the balance of power, is that right?”

“He saw a path that led to you creating the imbalance. And his job is to unmake things that would cause catastrophic endings by seeing the paths and manipulating them. But he knew there was a path to peace. Even if it was only one, he fucking knew it.”

“He also told you I’d betray you in the Forgotten, yet here we are. Is it strange that he’s getting so much of it wrong?”

I scratched the back of my head wondering how best to explain the makings of all of it. “He has no guarantees, just like the Fates. He runs on probability. Likely it bothers his pride more than anything to be wrong. So he refuses to accept it.”

“So you’re saying you have some things in common. What with all that annoying godly pride.”

Yanking her closer, hating the distance, I answered. “At least I come by it honestly.”

“I’ve noticed.” Her fingers played with a button on my jacket. “Hence the brooding.”

“For the love of gods, I do not brood.”

Her laugh, warm and real, washed over me like sunlight.

I spun her, then pulled her back against my chest, reveling in the way she fit perfectly in my arms. “Those ten years, Paesha…”

“No, sir. We are not circling back. We have to figure out how to get Archer on the throne. That’s his choice and it could lead to answers.” She lifted a shoulder and I knew the voices in her mind were rioting at the thought of being silenced.

I brushed a finger over her cheek. “I will save you from them. Whatever the cost, I will pay it.”

“You and your promises.” She tugged on my arm, leading me toward the door to go back inside. “Let’s go to bed.”

“Feeling tired, Wife?”

“Not on your immortal life, Husband.”