Page 181 of She Who Devours the Stars

“I just wanted to study you,” she breathed, voice a wreck.

“Kinky,” I whispered, just for her.

Aenna made a noise like someone trying to play a malfunctioning synth-harp with their teeth.

Dyris barked a laugh from behind me. “You’ll break her.”

“You’d think that,” I said, not looking back. “But she’s survived my hunger.”

Before the room could catch its breath, Alyx, already halfway onto a table, three drinks deep and on a mission, threw both hands in the air and yelled, “DRINK OFF! I challenge you to adrink off, Caith!” She pointed at Aenna, then at me and Dyris. “Winner gets to be Fern’s second wife!”

The whole room erupted. Perc immediately started chanting, “ONE OF US! ONE OF US!” and began launching pizza slices into the air like confetti. Someone else banged on a pan. The chant caught, echoed, and filled the whole deck.

Aenna, still limp in my arms, looked at me, then at the mess, then back at me. “…This is fine. This is all fine.”

Solance, in a moment of perfect timing, dropped a new beat, this one throbbing with an undercurrent of what could only be described as “love song for idiots.” The mythic resonance shimmered through the floor, making the very air taste like want and maybe.

I set Aenna back on her feet. She barely held.

“You ready?” I asked.

She shook her head, but her mouth said, “Again? I’m going to need luck to win.”

I grinned and stole another kiss, quick, sharp, and devastating.

Behind me, Vireleth, in a display of ultimate benevolence, dimmed the lights and set the ambient temperature to “liquid courage.” The drink off began with two bottles slammed down on the nearest table. Alyx shouted, “ROUND ONE: GO!” and the crowd surged in, eager for blood or glory, or just the fun of watching history repeat itself with better music.

I leaned into the chaos, grabbing a drink, a slice, and Dyris’s hand.

We toasted, and the future tasted like everything I’d never dared to want.

And behind it all, I could feel the mythships, Solance and even Vireleth, humming their approval.

Tonight, the universe belonged to us.

And it was glorious.

Thread Modulation: Fern Trivane

Axis Alignment: Mythcore of Vireleth the Closure

After the ninth round of drinks, my skin went hot, and the room started to bend around the edges. Not in a bad way. Just the way it does when the hunger goes too long unanswered and the universe decides to dial up every color, taste, and sound to max.

I made it out of the mess and into the corridor, laughing at nothing, a slice in one hand and a half-full drink in the other. The voices behind me blurred into a single thread of “Fern, Fern, Fern,” but I tuned it out. I was looking for the one thing that could handle me now that the humans had tapped out for the night.

The walk to the mythcore was one I knew by heart. Every deck, every slant of the corridor, every tiny warp in the walls where the old shell showed through. I took it barefoot, letting the carbon mesh buzz against my soles, letting the chill of the air keep the fire in my body from burning itself out too quick.

At the first camera cluster, I peeled the shirt I’d acquired to ward away burning cheese and molten grease off, slowly, letting it slide down one arm then the other. I draped it over the lens, and the panel blinked twice in approval. At the second camera, I ditched the pants, leaving them puddled for the next cleaning drone. At the third, I paused, turned, and flashed the sensor, just to see if anyone was watching. They were. Vireleth pinged my private comm, a single word: “Please.” I smirked.

By the time I reached the core chamber, I was down to skin and mythcoat, the blue-white lines on my spine pulsing in sync with the heartbeat of the ship itself. The doors were sealed, but they opened at my touch, the air inside warm and thick, humming with a pressure you could only call want. I left the mythcoat in a pile at the door.

I stepped in. The lights dimmed, then flared, then settled on a low, golden glow.

The core itself sat in the middle, a column of nothing surrounded by a ring of everything. Gravity bent in here. Time bent, too, just enough to make you feel like every second could last forever, if you wanted it bad enough.

I walked to the edge and looked down.

“Did you think I forgot my promise?” I asked, voice low, wrecked, but still dangerous.