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Alistair’s hand finds mine, focusing me amid the overwhelming sense of timelessness.
Trailing my hand down the cool, damp wall, I murmur, “So much history, so many people, so many secrets.”
“History isn’t always pretty,” Ben remarks quietly. “But it shapes us, for better or worse.”
“Speaking of shaping history...” Damien nods toward the centre of the chamber, where Alex stands flanked by Trent, Marcus, and Sebastian. They’re an intimidating sight, the power they wield almost tangible.
They’re gearing up, and it makes my blood spike with excitement. They will be a force next year, no doubt.
Alistair releases my hand and strides forward, his posture commanding. He doesn’t hesitate or falter; he owns this space, and everyone in it knows.
“Inter-Cardinals,” he begins, his voice echoing off the ancient stones, “I stand before you now to uphold the traditions of our forefathers.” He turns to Alex, fixing him with that impenetrable stare. “Alexander Kensington, Earl of Woodborough. You’ve proven your strength and your dedication to our cause. It’s time you take up the mantle as North Cardinal. I pass it on to you, knowing you will uphold the sect from ground zero, the place where it all began and continues to begin.”
Alex steps forward, his expression unreadable. “I accept this responsibility, North Cardinal. Not for power, but to honour the tenets of KnightsGate.”
“Good,” Alistair says, the corner of his mouth quirking up ever so slightly. “Because it’s not just about ruling—it’s about leading with conviction, and I know you’ve got plenty of that. Plus, you know how to kick serious ass.”
“Fuck yeah,” Damien mutters under his breath, and I smile. We might stand on ceremony, but we’re far from formal.
“It is done,” Alistair declares, clapping Alex on the shoulder. “Lead well, brother.”
“Count on it,” Alex replies, his voice firm.
As the gravity of the moment settles around us, I realise this isn’t just an ending. It’s the beginning of something new, something dark and thrilling and utterly ours to pass on.
Each breath I take is laced with the dust of ages. Alex stands before us now, a new leader among ancient ghosts. As the others start to chatter about plans and celebrations, I hang back, watching him. There’s something about the way he holds himself — like he’s shouldering more than just leadership.
“Alex,” I begin, my voice cutting through the murmurs of the chamber, “what about Nathaniel? Did you guys sort your shit out?”
He sighs and shakes his head. “Not now. That’s a story for another time.”
I nod, the unspoken words hanging between us. It’s clear there are layers to their story, ones that aren’t ready to be peeled back just yet.
“Understood,” I say, letting it go as the tension in his shoulders eases slightly as I let him off the hook. I have looked past the part he played in getting me in front of Stanley to drug. Maybe he did it, maybe he didn’t. Maybe it’s all one big coincidence. Who knows? But honestly, who cares? I’m here with the men I love, in my rightful place and that’s all that matters. Everything else is noise.
A shout from Charlie breaks the momentary quiet, his arms flung wide as if embracing the entirety of our motley crew. “To hell with tradition and long-winded speeches, which we all loathe! We did it, mates! Let’s live it up!”
Laughter bubbles up from the group, infectious and heady. Damien smirks at Charlie’s antics, while Ben offers a grin, the corners of his eyes crinkling. Even Alistair allows a genuine smile to break through his usual stoic expression.
“Charlie’s right,” Damien says, his voice low but carrying. “We’ve bent rules, broken some, and here we are. Still standing. Still undefeated.”
“Cheers to that,” Ben says, lifting a glass of Champagne that someone popped open while I was talking to Alex.
“Cheers!” we echo, our voices mingling and rising to the vaulted ceiling.
As the room fills with the sound of our collective triumph, I feel the warmth of belonging wash over me. This strange, twisted family of ours has weathered storms and battles, both literal and figurative. And yet, through it all, we stand united, not just by circumstance or necessity, but by a bond that’s been forged in the darkest fires of hell itself.
“Let’s make the most of tonight,” Alistair says, his eyes alight with a fire that matches the enthusiasm of his words. “Because from tomorrow, we play a whole new game. But first... to our new reigning Duchess of KnightsCastle, may she reign with longevity and, maybe one day, do me the great honour of becoming my Duchess as well. Your ancestors would be proud.”
“Stop, you’ll make her head as big as yours,” Charlie teases, but the look he gives me is approving, his smile genuine.
“Is that a proposal?” I ask, choking back the panic.
“Not yet,” he murmurs, giving me that half-smile I adore.
Relief floods me. It’s not that I don’t love him and want to be his forever in every sense; it’s just I’m only twenty-two, and I have my whole life ahead of me to think about being married to one of the most influential people in the nobility. “Thanks, guys. Really,” I say, feeling a surge of gratitude for these complicated,obsessive men who’ve become my protectors, my friends, my lovers—my family.
“KnightsGate has seen many leaders,” Alex states, stepping forward with the confidence of someone born to command. “But none quite like you, Ever. You’ve led with heart, with courage. You’ve earned your place, not by birthright alone, but through action.”
