“Abram…”
“You feel that?” His voice dropped to a rough whisper, the kind that scraped down my spine like a promise. “That’s what you do to me, how you unravel everything I am until there’s nothing left but you. Every time I touch you, I lose a piece of what I am. Do you understand that, Elowyn? You’re undoing a god and keeping all the pieces of me.”
He pressed me back against the wall, his breath hot, his words trembling with hunger and reverence. “Now you’ll understand what it means to be worshiped, Elowyn. Not by gods, not by fate—by me.” His gaze burned into mine, untamed devotion in every flicker of his eyes. “When I’m through, it won’t be the heavens you thank. It’ll be my name that leaves your lips. You thankme. You begme.It’s my name that will echo in your lungs when you come apart. And you’ll scream it loud enough that it shakes the heavens and reminds them that you are always where you were meant to be—trembling beneath me.”
A helpless sound escaped me. “Fuck,” I breathed.
“That’s it. Remember how it feels. This isn’t just devotion anymore, little weaver. It’s damnation. I would shatter every star in the heavens if they tried to claim you. I would burn eternity itself until it remembered you belonged to me.” He kissed the insides of my thighs.
He drew back just enough to look at me, eyes darker than I’d ever seen them. “We have a lifetime of this,” he promised, voice low and reverent. “And every day of it, I’ll remind you that you were made for me. That no god, no fate, no universe could ever take you from me. I’ll worship you until you forget there was ever a world without my hands on you.”
His vow wrapped around my soul like a chain I’d begged for. And as I met his gaze, I knew I’d stopped belonging to the heavens long ago. I belonged here, in the ruin and the worship of him. I had always belonged to Abram.
Epilogue
Abram
“You’re late.” Haden and Cassius were staring at me.
“I had to finish up something.” I smiled.
My gaze moved to Elowyn who smiled at me. I had to make sure my wife finished, twice. My chest tightened at the memory, a flutter of warmth and exhaustion mixing together.
“Yeah, bet you did.” Cassius snorted, shaking his head like he couldn’t believe us.
I glanced around, noticing Ezra’s absence. I had checked on him earlier. He was doing well, better than I would’ve been doing. But I stayed the morning with him, lingering close, watching for the smallest sign of strain. Elowyn came too and made him some food, her hands gentle, her presence soothing. But family dinner night seemed wrong without him.
“How’s Ezra?” Cassius asked, his voice soft now, edged with concern.
“He seems to be doing alright, but I’m more curious about what happens when Farris wakes up.” My throat tightened, alump forming as I tried to push down the worry curling in my stomach.
I had told them some of what happened with Farris and Ezra. But I didn’t think I could ever convey the heartbreak and devastation I had seen on Ezra’s face when she confessed her secrets. My chest ached again, the memory pressing against my ribs.
“I’m sure they’ll work it out.” Cassius frowned, glancing at me. “Right?”
“I don’t know.” Haden looked at me, eyes shadowed with unease. “I saw him yesterday, and he seemed disconnected from everything around him, like he wasn’t himself but pretending to be.”
I knew he was putting on a show but I hoped, prayed even, that when Farris woke they’d work through it, and he’d return to the talkative, friendly Ezra I knew. My fingers clenched at my sides, nails digging into my palms.
Haden’s gaze shifted behind me, his eyes widening in alarm. “Ezra.”
I whipped around, my stomach twisting. Ezra stood like a ghost, shoulders tense, a fragile figure bracing against the world. His eyes were red, glimmering with unshed tears, and for a moment, panic clawed at me. My heart thudded painfully against my ribs.
I looked at him, searching for some sign of what had happened.
“I need to talk to you. I fucked up.”
I nodded, my hands trembling slightly as I followed him out of the house to Haden and Della’s pond in the back. The air was heavy, thick with tension, the late afternoon sun casting long shadows across the water. Ezra paced back and forth, his movements tight, rigid, as if every step cost him effort. His handraked through his hair repeatedly, fingers threading through dark strands as he tried to steady himself.
“Ezra, is Farris alright?” I asked, anxiety tightening my chest, each heartbeat a drum of worry.
I looked over my shoulder and saw eyes on us. Everyone stood frozen on the porch, worry etched across their faces. When I turned back, Ezra’s gaze met mine, raw and fractured.
“She’s fine.” His voice was brittle, fragile. But he seemed to hesitate, the weight of guilt pressing on him visibly. “She woke up.”
“That’s great.” Relief bubbled up in me, but it was hollow, laced with tension. I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding.
He swallowed hard, eyes dropping to the ground. “Before she woke, I went to check on Philip and Loma. Their souls.” His jaw tightened. “They were… empty. Stripped bare. No magic left in them at all.”
