Page 29

EVE

Sleep was a losing battle. Every time I closed my eyes, my thoughts drifted back to the kiss, replaying it in perfect, excruciating detail. Orion’s hands, firm but gentle, his lips commanding. It was maddening.

When I finally managed to drift off, it was shallow and restless, my mind filled with fragments of dreams I couldn’t quite piece together. By the time the sun peeked through the blinds, I’d given up on feeling rested entirely.

I tiptoed into the living room and reached for the landline, hesitating only a moment before dialing the diner. Louise answered on the second ring, her voice chipper for the early hour.

“Morning, Lou,” I started, fiddling with the cord. “I just wanted to make sure you were actually okay on your own today, I had no idea Orion was going to do that. I can come in if—”

“Eve,” Louise interrupted, her tone light but firm. “That man’s got stars in his eyes, Eve. Let him take you on an adventure. You’ve earned it. Now, enjoy yourself and don’t call me again unless you’re in trouble, alright?”

The click on the other end of the line left no room for argument. I hung up with a sigh.

When he finally did arrive, his grin was bright enough to outshine the sun. He didn’t give me a chance to ask questions, wrapping me up in bundles of layers with an almost giddy determination.

“Can’t have you freezing to death,” he’d said, zipping up my spare fleece-lined jacket despite my protests that I was already roasting.

His good mood was infectious, and I found myself smiling as I climbed into his truck.

I wasn’t entirely sure what to expect, but as he pulled into the empty parking lot just south of the Appalachian Trail, I was thankful he’d convinced me to wear my thermals and heavy-duty boots.

“Your idea of a date is hiking?” I turned to Orion, my voice flat with disbelief. “In October?”

“Don’t knock it till you try it,” he grinned down at me, annoyingly bright-eyed.

He slung his arm over my shoulder and steered me toward the trail. I gave him a skeptical look, but let him guide me.

“I hate to say it, but this is not what I had in mind.”

“So bossy today,” he said. “Did I not leave you satisfied last night?”

Heat flooded my cheeks as the memory resurfaced.

“Not the point,” I grumbled, letting my head fall against his shoulder for dramatic effect. “I just hate hiking. Always have. My mom used to drag me out here every chance she got. I think she liked the idea of being free in nature, but all I could ever focus on were the insects.”

Orion’s laughter rumbled against me, warm and contagious. “Well, I’ll be sure to dive in front of you should any wayward bugs find their way close to you.”

I shoved him away with a laugh.

The trail stretched ahead of us, winding through towering trees that formed a patchwork canopy overhead. The path was uneven in places, roots and rocks breaking through the packed dirt, but it was well-trodden. We walked in companionable silence for thirty minutes before Orion veered off the trail.

“This way,” he said, stepping into the denser part of the forest.

I stopped, frowning at the unmarked path. “You’re kidding.”

He turned back, motioning for me to follow him. “What’s wrong, Kitten? Scared of a little off-roading?“

Grumbling under my breath, I followed him into the thick of the trees. The forest was darker here, the canopy above blocking most of the sunlight.

“Where exactly are we going? I probably should’ve told someone where I was going in case you planned on dragging me out here for some kind of sacrifice.”

Orion laughed, glancing back at me. “Oh, your brain works in wonderful ways, glowworm. No sacrifices this time, but I make no promises for future expeditions.”

I snorted, and that one lapse in attention sent me stumbling as my toe caught on a root. Orion was there in an instant, his hands catching me before I hit the ground.

“Careful,” he said, steadying me with an amused look. “You should have warned me about your two left feet. You sure you don’t want me to carry you?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Your clumsy feet are only slowing us down.”

“They are not clumsy!”

“Uh-huh. Come on, hop on,” he turned his back to me, crouching slightly.

I sighed, knowing I wouldn’t win this one, and climbed on, wrapping my arms around his shoulders and my legs around his waist. “You’re relentless,” I muttered, resting my chin on his shoulder as he started walking again.

Orion’s pace didn’t falter under my weight, his strides steady and confident as we moved deeper into the woods. For a while, the rhythmic motion and the quiet sounds of the fauna lulled me into a rare sense of peace.

“You know, I’ve felt happier these last few days, all things considered. But…” I hesitated, my thoughts swirling. “I still feel like I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop.”

Orion’s steps slowed slightly. “I get that. I imagine it’s normal to feel that way after everything you’ve been through.”

I smiled faintly against his shoulder. “Yeah, I know. But it’s hard not to imagine the worst. Xander told me more about Titan, but it’s like the only thing I’ve learned is how dangerous everything is. And I still don’t know how I fit into any of this.”

Orion’s hand shifted to my thigh, his touch grounding me. “We’ll get those answers, Eve.”

Something in his tone made my chest tighten, like there was something he wasn’t telling me.

“Thanks,” I said quietly, my voice barely above a whisper.

“Don’t thank me. You’re stuck with me now.”

I laughed, the sound easing the knot in my chest. “I don’t feel very stuck, Orion.”

“That’s my girl.”

The trees began to thin as we stepped into a small clearing, sunlight breaking through the canopy above in soft, scattered patches.

“We’re here.”

Orion stopped, his hands steadying me as he shifted me gently from his back to the ground. My gaze swept through the clearing. It looked, well, ordinary. Just another patch of forest, with trees standing in a watchful circle.

My brow furrowed as I half-turned to Orion, ready to ask if he was messing with me, but then I saw it.

It wasn’t obvious at first—just the faintest hint of stone peeking through the undergrowth.

I stepped closer, and the ruins began to take shape.

Intricate carvings emerged from the shadows, their swirls and geometric patterns twisting together in a design that seemed almost alive.

Scattered pieces lay in uneven clusters, partially buried in the forest floor as if the earth itself was reclaiming them.

I crouched beside a fragment of stone, its carvings faded in places where time had worn it down.

Even the air here smelled different—like petrichor and old smoke, something ancient stirred from sleep.

The patterns were mesmerizing, spiraling out like ripples in water, and I reached out without thinking, my fingers brushing the cool, uneven surface.

The moment I touched it, the pulse grew stronger, and the surface below my palm grew warm. It was alive, ancient, and endless, like the remnants of a song that had long since faded.

“What the…” I whispered, the word escaping me before I could stop it. My voice felt small here, swallowed by the clearing as though the space itself demanded reverence.

Orion followed me, his eyes soft but intent. “You feel it, don’t you?”

I nodded. “What is this place?”

His gaze swept over the clearing, his expression softening as he looked at the ruins. It wasn’t his usual teasing smirk or the easy confidence he carried. This was something quieter, almost mournful. When his eyes finally met mine, they were tinged with pride—maybe loss.

“This,” he said, gesturing to the ruins, “is one of the gates to Titan. Or rather, what’s left of it.”

I blinked at him, then turned back to the crumbled stones. Now that he’d said it, I could see it—the faint outline of what must have once been a grand structure.

“This is… a portal?”

He nodded, his expression unreadable as he stepped closer to the ruins, his hand brushing the fallen leaves off the nearest piece of stone.

“It’s strange,” he said quietly. “Even after all these years, the magic is still here. Faint, but alive. Like it’s waiting for the gates to open once more.”

I swallowed hard. There was an entire world weighing on his shoulders, a kind of grief that was beyond words. I wondered how many memories were buried here, how much he’d lost when the gate crumbled.

Orion turned to me, holding out his hand. I took it without hesitation. His touch was grounding, steady. He led me to a fallen tree at the edge of the clearing, where we sat side by side, the damp creeping through my thermals.

His hand stayed wrapped around mine, steady and warm, like he needed the contact as much as I did.

“I wanted to show you this.” His gaze remained fixed on the ruins, but his thumb absently brushed against my knuckles. “This place… It’s more than just ruins. It’s a reminder. Of what we lost, yes, but also of what’s possible.”

My stomach somersaulted and part of me wanted to stop him, like whatever he had to say could never be unsaid, and that my life would forever change. But I couldn’t keep hiding from this.

“Why did the gates suddenly close if they were working all this time?”

He exhaled, his shoulders rising and falling in a way that felt almost weary.

“When the Divide was sealed 25 years ago, the magic that connected Titan to Earth… it had nowhere to go. Some were destroyed intentionally to keep them from being used again, or just out of sheer frustration by those trapped on this side. And the rest… There was a mass exodus of Titans to Earth during those final days. Most collapsed, torn apart as the connection between the worlds broke.”

Orion’s jaw tightened, his fingers flexing slightly around mine.