Page 149 of When Death Whispers

Rad scoffs, feigning irritation, but I catch the subtle way his shoulders relax. “Yeah, don’t get used to it.”

Steo only grunts, but his hold on her tightens possessively, clearly unwilling to let go just yet.

I manage a weak grin, exhaustion settling deep in my bones, but squeeze her hand in response. “Welcome back, Silver.”

She blinks again, eyes softening with gratitude and something deeper—an understanding passing silently between us. “Thanks, Golden Boy.”

The Evergloom finally stills, pulsing gently around us, the vibrant pink now calm and steady. The air itself feels lighter, breathable again.

We’re locked together in silence, wrists still tangled, the aftershocks of what we just became echoing through every part of me. It’s deeper, more profound than anything I’ve ever felt—something rooted in fate, in choices made, and lives forever entangled. And completely terrifying. There are a ton of questions left unanswered with this new dynamic, but no one seems brave enough to voice any yet.

“Well,” Rad finally mutters, withdrawing his clawed grip. “This is fucking awkward.”

Parker laughs again, softer this time, resting her head against Steo’s chest, a sleepy smile curving her lips. The Gloom responds to it again, as if in sync with her every emotion, and I suppose it is since I can feel the flutter of it deep in my core this time around. She looks oddly at ease here, alive and strong, in a realm teeming with monsters. But she still says, “Yeah. It really is.” Her eyes close and she lets out a small content sigh, exhaustion overtaking her.

Yet none of us steps away.

Whatever we were before—enemies, strangers, something in-between—we’re not that anymore.

We’re bound. And that changes everything.

56

The burrow is pink.

Not all of it—just the veins in the walls. Pale streaks of rose light pulse through twisted roots like a heartbeat. Like the Evergloom was marked by Parker and decided that it liked itself better this way.

The place still feels like death. Like the air is two seconds from collapsing in on itself.

But now… it glows.

And she hasn’t woken up yet.

Rad paces near the far wall, tail flicking restlessly behind him. He keeps glancing toward where Parker is sleeping on a bed made of twigs—like he can force her awake with sheer willpower. His distress travels along our new bond, making me feel on edge.

The shadow monster—Steo—hasn’t moved in ten minutes, but it’s impatience that leaks through from him. He stands like a sentinel carved from bone and reverence, arms crossed, eyes fixed on her. He’s watching like if she misses one more breath, he’ll unmake the realm just to force it back into her lungs. His shadows curl tight around her, stroking her softly.

And me? I’m perched on what Ihopeis a stool and not some sentient, brooding root, cradling a mug of something warm and vaguely moss-flavored. Trying not to look like I’m two seconds from unraveling.

“…Do you think she’ll wake up?” I ask, voice low, barely more than breath.

Rad freezes mid-step.

Steo doesn’t move—but I swear his shadows flinch.

“I don’t know,” Rad says finally, and it’s quiet. Honest. “I’ve never felt her go this still before. And I can no longer access her dreams.”

The silence sinks in deep. Heavy. Like the room itself is holding its breath.

None of us say it aloud. But we all feel it.

So I shift the weight. Because there’s an elephant in the room and I’m going to crawl out of my skin if I don’t address it.

“So... are we just not murdering each other now?”

Rad doesn’t miss a beat. “Temporary ceasefire. Like a holiday truce. No knives until sundown.”

Steo doesn’t blink, his creepy glowing orange eyes like two floating orbs in the semi-darkness. “I was not given a blade.”

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