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The contact sends a jolt through me. For a second, I let myself lean into him, into the bedlam that we’ve become entangled in, and I find a perverse comfort in it.
“Whatever that means.”
In this shared silence, something shifts, some brittle barrier cracking under the weight of our combined defiance.
His thumb brushes against my knuckles, a small but significant gesture. I meet his gaze, finding an understandingbetween us at least, that needs no words. The rest I’m going to have to deal with sooner rather than later.
7
EVER
My bare feet tap a nervous rhythm against the soft carpet as I pace my room, the words of my speech swirling in my head like leaves in a storm. “The lineage of KnightsGate is both a blessing and a curse,” I mutter, glancing at the notes scattered across my desk. The walls feel too close, suffocating, as if they’re closing in with every whisper and sidelong glance that’s been thrown my way since I entered this house of secrets.
“Hey, you’re doing great,” Charlie says, sprawled out on my bed dressed only in light grey joggers and a white tee. His wonderfully ever-changing eyes catch mine, bright with a mischief that cuts through my unease. “Just remember to breathe, Ever. It’s just history, and you love history. This is just you speaking on a subject you love, right?”
I nod, trying to believe him, but it’s hard when my name feels like a target on my back right now.
Charlie sits up, his light brown hair a tousled mess that somehow looks intentional. “Say it with conviction. Like you mean it.”
“KnightsGate has stood for centuries as a beacon of knowledge and progress...” I start again, voice stronger this time, but the fluttering in my stomach doesn’t cease.
The door opens quietly, and Alistair steps in, his presence filling the room like smoke. “Ever, you’ve got this.” His blue eyes find mine, serious and intense. I can almost see the gears turning in his head, always two steps ahead. He is clad much the same as Charlie, yet it does nothing to diminish the waves of power and aristocracy coming off him. In a weird way, it feels protective.
“Thanks, Alistair,” I reply, feeling a thread of confidence weave through me. If anyone knows how to navigate the treacherous waters of society, it’s him.
Ben and Damien follow Alistair into the room, and suddenly, it feels too small, even though there is a vast space between us all.
“Your speech is insightful,” Ben says, crossing over to me with a confidence that makes me smile as he kisses the top of my head, his white shirt sleeves rolled up stark against his navy blue pants. “We will be there to give you strength.” The calm reassurance in his voice is soothing the mess in my mind.
Damien shoots me a small smile as he sits on the bed, dressed in his usual black tee and jeans.
Their collective presence is a fortress, their belief in me the shield I desperately need. I take a deep breath, focusing on their support. For a moment, the rumours and threats feel distant, like shadows chased away by the dawn.
Charlie hops off the bed and wraps an arm around my shoulder, pulling me into the fold. “You’ve got this, Ever,” he says with a rare seriousness beneath his usual jest.
Nodding as a knot forms in my stomach.
Then ask.
Damien’s words come flying back at me to hit me in the face, and I open my mouth, but nothing comes out.
“What is it?” Ben asks, taking my hand and giving it a squeeze. I’m not sure if it helps or makes things worse.
“There is something I need an answer to. Right now. This thing between us. What is it? I’m not sure I can choose between you...” The room feels suffocating as I struggle to get these words out.
Damien’s brow furrows, Charlie’s easy smile fades, and Ben’s hand tightens around mine. But it’s Alistair who steps forward with an intensity that pins me in place.
“Who is asking you to choose? We’re not a crossroads you’re forced to navigate; we’re the compass that guides you, angel. All of us.”
I blink, taken aback by the certainty in his tone. It’s madness, this idea of not choosing, yet it offers a strange comfort, like a lighthouse beam cutting through fog.
However, confusion wins out.
I stare at Alistair, his declaration echoing in the room. My mind races, tripping over thoughts and possibilities I’ve never even dared to imagine.
“Is that even possible?” I murmur. The notion of belonging to each of them feels foreign, a landscape too vast and intricate to navigate. It’s not just about hearts and bodies; it’s about histories, futures, and souls intertwining in ways I can’t fully understand. I don’t have the experience to grasp this.
Damien steps closer. “We see you. All of you. And we’re not backing down.”
