Page 61 of A Fate Everlasting

“I didn’t expect you to come.” I watched the slow tilt of his head, a glint of something hidden in the depths of those dark eyes. I swallowed, my throat tight. “That song…” My voice came out steadier than I felt. “What was it? It felt familiar.”

Dante’s gaze flickered, just barely, but enough. Enough that I knew my question mattered. “A nocturne,” he murmured.

The word slid between us like a blade to my ribs. It was a coincidence; I was sure of it. That word. The one I had so often heard in a whisper spun from the shadows of my mind.

The Thread’s name for me. The chapel felt colder, the candlelight flickering in strange patterns against the stone. I tried to fight the way my fingers curled, the way my stomach knotted, but I couldn’t stop it. No. It couldn’t be him. Except it could.It could.

Because this wasn’t a coincidence. I knew it instinctively.

“Why did you agree to meet me?” My voice barely rose above a whisper, but it carried, twisting through the darkness.He still hadn’t answered. I pressed on, the bigger question burning my tongue. “Why me, in all of this?”

“You already know, Nocturne.”The Thread curled through my skull, and I knew.I knew. It should have made me flinch, hearing my nickname spoken like that. But it didn’t. It made something inside me go still. Like he’d plucked a thread only I could feel.

“You,” I breathed. “It was always you.” My throat closed. “You’re the Thread.” Dante didn’t confirm it. He didn’t have to. The feeling between us was proof enough. I took a step back, suddenly feeling like the air in the chapel was too warm. “How long? How long have you known?”

His jaw tightened. “I have always felt you. It wasn’t until you arrived at Evermore that I knew.” His voice broke on the words, and he looked away. His fingers twitched, like he was fighting the urge to reach for me.

Everything snapped into place. Every whisper. Every pull. Every instinct I shouldn’t have had. The way he was always there. The way he always knew. The reason the Thread had never left me. It wasn’t a force. It wasn’t fate. It was him. I had let him inside my mind.

Dante took a step forward. Not close enough to touch, but close enough that I felt the tension in the space between us. “Like I have often said. You don’t even know who you are.”

My hands curled into fists. “Then tell me.”

A muscle flickered in his jaw. “I tried to ignore it. Tried to resist it. But it never goes away, does it?” The Thread roared in my skull.

“Why me?” I demanded. “Why are we connected?” I didn’t know if I wanted to run or reach for him. I didn’t know who I was anymore, not really. Not if he’d been there all along.

“I don’t know,” Dante said. “I tried to resist it. But you…” His throat worked, like he couldn’t say it. “You make it harder.”

“Harder,” I echoed. “This is hard foryou?Imagine how I feel! You’ve been in mymind, Dante. This whole time.”

He didn’t answer. He glanced at my mouth, then back to my eyes, sighing. “You don’t get it, do you?” He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a card. Goosebumps prickled against my skin, my body already knowing what it was before my mind could catch up. Saints help me, I wanted to understand him. Wanted to understand this. “I thought if I kept you close I could learn how to sever this before it ruins us both.” But there was something in his voice, something far from detachment. “Maybe that was just a lie I told myself.”

A flick of his wrist sent the card spinning between his fingers, its edges gleaming like embers waiting to catch. The ink writhed beneath his touch, the card’s many eyes rolling in their sockets, tracking me. They saw me, they knew I was here.

A cold weight settled in my chest. “Give them back.” My voice came out raw, breaking as I uttered, “Now.”

Dante smirked. “Why?” His grip on the card was loose, lazy, like he wasn’t holding power in his hands, like it didn’t mean everything. “You think they belong to you? That they’re safer with you? That returning them will raise your score?”

“Maybe.” My voice cracked.

“You’re wrong.” He didn’t flinch. “Someone like you was never destined for the After.”

My stomach clenched. “What are you saying?”

“The cards are safer with me. I want you to see that. I’ve tried to show you…” he started, but I moved before I could think, lunging for the card.

The second my fingers brushed its surface,pain.Not just pain, total blinding agony. A strangled sound tore from my throat as I jerked back, my palm burning, raw and red.

Dante caught my wrist before I could stumble away. The Thread pressed against the edges of my mind, delighted. “Youwant answers?” he asked. “I’ll give you one card. That’s all I’m offering.”

“I need the whole deck.”

“Can’t do that.” His gaze dropped to the necklace at my throat. “One card and in exchange, your necklace.”

My hand flew to it, the weight grounding. It was a part of me I wasn’t willing to give away.

“You don’t even know what it is,” he said, almost gently. “Do you?”

---