Page 96 of Fated In Forever
Riordan—
“No, listen to me.” I leaned closer, close enough to memorize every detail of her face in case... in case this was the last time. “I've spent my whole life being careful. Calculating risks, weighing options, always thinking three steps ahead. But not this time. This time, the only thing that matters is you surviving, and the only way you’ll survive is with Malachi.”
A tear slipped out from beneath her eyelid and down her cheek, and I caught it with my fingertip.
“You have to hang on,” I rasped, the words tearing my throat apart like sandpaper. “You have to hang on until we get back, and we’ll be as fast as we can.” I buried my face in her throat, breathing her scent, like I could somehow take it with me.
“But you have to wait for us, Silver. Because if I get back, and you are gone, I will rip apart the veil between our realms with my bare fucking hands and drag you back. Understand?”
So dramatic.
“Tell me you understand. Promise me you’ll stay.” Even her body was cool beneath the blankets, not the fiery warmth I was used to.
Evie's breathing hitched, and for a terrifying moment, I thought I was losing her. But then her hand cupped the back of my head, her fingers curling around my skull.
Promise.
“Good girl,” I said, and I wondered if her slight smile was real, or my imagination. “We leave in an hour, but I had to tell you goodbye,” I murmured, “Blake's waiting outside, and we'll be back before you know it. Just... please, Evie. Hold on for us.”
Love you. Always.
Then her breathing evened out and her fingers slipped from my hair. I folded them over her chest and left her lying there, like a statue of an ancient pagan goddess, squeezing Blake’s shoulder as we passed in the hall.
We would bring Malachi back. We would save her.
Because a world without Evie wasn't a world worth living in.
46
MALACHI
The dusty stone steps were cold as ice, and I took them three at a time, not stopping until I stood before the dormant portal in the deepest level of my castle, staring at the dark opening that I never thought I’d need again.
I hadn’t been down here in a year, at least.
My hands trembled—calloused ripped, palms torn apart during my desperate race to drag the heavy boat back to shore—but I didn’t care that I was dripping blood everywhere.
Evangeline’s scent had faded long ago, but I kept seeing her, looking back over her shoulder at me, outlined by fields so green they didn’t look real, clutching The Wishrender to her chest before she disappeared in a swirl of desolate black.
Now I stood here, months, or years later, staring at the lifeless portal, with no way to open that shadowy door. I ground my teeth, searching for…something. A hidden lock, instructive runes, some way to get back to her.
But…I had rebuilt this castle.
I commanded this entire realm. I was a fuckinggodin this place.
“Open,” I commanded, my voiceechoing in the vast chamber. Nothing. Not even a flicker of movement. The kind of stillness that wasn’t meant to be disturbed.
Well, here I was, fucking disturbing it.
“Fucking open or I will tear you apart with my bare hands.”
Fury built in my chest, hot and desperate. I slammed my fist against the shadowy frame, nothing but mist on the surface, but the impact reverberated up my arm as if I’d struck solid obsidian. The portal remained dark and silent.
Staring at me like a petulant child.
“Open up.” I snarled, striking again, harder this time. The thud of my knuckles against stone filled the chamber, a wet, rhythmic pounding that matched every furious beat of my heart. My arm became a piston, driving my fist against the stone, focusing my power, my rage on one point, so many times I lost count.
Blood flowed from my split skin, I was splattered with red, but I didn't care. I couldn't feel the pain through the agony that had been eating me since I realized she was in trouble. Every day I lived with the phantom pull of our severed bond, endured the pain, like a limb that had been torn away but still ached.
