Page 87 of A Fate Everlasting

I stepped forward, the crunch of frost beneath my boots the only sound. The world inside Evermore had gone still, far colder than was natural for this time of year. Even the sky and the stars seemed further away. It all felt like…death.

I made my way to the chapel, slipping through the iron doors, then keeping to the edges of the corridors. My body moved on instinct, each turn, each step pulling me deeper into the place I had tried so desperately to escape. I summoned the memory of ocean waves, a meditation trick I’d learned to blur surface thoughts. I needed to keep my mind focused.

The Sanctum’s great hall stood empty, except for him. Dante stood beside the throne, one hand braced against the armrest, his fingers curling and uncurling, restless, like he had been waiting.

His coat was undone, the sleeves pushed up. “You came back,” he said with a softness that prickled the skin on my arms. He paused in front of me, waiting. For me to run, for me to fight, to crack beneath the weight ofeverythingI had learned.

I did none of those things. Instead, I stepped forward, like I belonged there. The torchlight light carved his face in sharp relief. I took in the inked rhunes along his forearms, the undone collar of his coat, the way his silver eyes burned through me like he could see every thought before I had it.

I could feel it then, his patience slipping, his figurative grip on the deck tightening. He thought he had me. He thought I had finally unraveled, that the game had ended exactly the way he planned.

He was wrong.

Just for a breath, hesitation snaked through me. I was attempting to trick the one person who had access to my mind in ways I didn’t understand. He wasn’t just two steps ahead, he had a view of the entire board. Compliance wouldn’t be enough, he’d see through that. I’d have to method act this.

I was playing my own game now. I just had to steady my thoughts enough that he’d believe it. I tilted my chin up. My voice was quiet, but unwavering. “I’m ready.”

“Ready for what,little thief?Say it.” The way he said my name felt like a challenge, like he was daring me to falter. I didn’t.

“To be what you need me to be.” I wasn’t asking for the Arcana. I wasn’t asking for anything at all. I was giving him exactly what he wanted, or at least, letting him think I was. “To Fall.”

His silver gaze flicked over me, searching, like he was trying to find the lie, but I knew he wanted to believe this moment was real. And maybe, in some twisted way, it was. The space between us was charged. I could feel the weight of his attention settling over me, heavier than his touch ever had been.

Then, Dante moved. Not to grab me. Not to drag me closer, but to reach for my chin. His fingers brushed against my jaw, tilting my face up, forcing me to look at him. Everything stilled inside me.

The illusion had to be perfect. I didn’t pull away, I didn’t flinch. I let him touch me, let him believe. My mind had to be convinced by this too, in case he could see within. I willed myself to want this.

His thumb ghosted over my pulse, lingering there. His touch felt inevitable, like a seal over something that had already been written. Then, in a tone sweet enough that it was almost lost in the space between us, he said,“That’s my girl.”

41

Ireached for a weathered, leather-bound book on the mantle, the pages all in Latin, attempting to make casual conversation. Dante had called me to his room to help me prepare for the Rift. To help me prepare to Fall. “The King finds himself too busy for Evermore, then?” I asked. “Even now?”

“No. My father will arrive soon,” Dante replied, staring into the crackling fireplace as silver flames licked toward the chimney. “I cannot assume official duties alone, yet.”

“Why?”

“I’m unwed.” He said like it should have been obvious. “To be Evermore’s true regent, I must be crowned. I can’t be crowned, not officially, without a fated consort.”

“A fated consort?” Somehow, it seemed like one of the more absurd details I’d learned recently. I kept my gaze soft, lingering on the pocket of his blazer jacket. It bulged slightly.The cards.“And that’s something you want?”

“With a title I’ll have control over the realms we conquer,” he replied simply.

“You mean the After.” The fireplace hissed as though horrified I’d mentioned such a place.

Dante moved closer, the firelight picking out the silver in his eyes.“Theyareour natural enemy, you know. Angels and Daemons were never meant to coexist.”

“Enemies.” I huffed and rolled my shoulders, tense and aching. I pulled another book from the mantle. “And is that whatweare?”

He loosed a breathy laugh. “Maybe. But not because of what we are, I don’t think.”

“Right.” I ran a finger along the spines along the mantle. So many volumes, all well worn. “Big reader?” I asked. “Suppose you pick these up when my mind gets boring.”

“No.” Dante’s smirk had vanished. “That’s not how it works.”

My finger slipped from the final tome. “Howdoesit work, then?”

“Well,” Dante murmured, stepping close. “I have to feel you…reachfor me.”

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