Chapter 42 Bryony
brYONY
EVANDER ANGLES US into a slow, circling descent about an hour outside of Hellevig. The ground rushes up, resolving into a small clearing nestled in the forest. He lands hard, the impact jarring through me.
“A little gentler on the landing next time?” I mutter as I extricate myself from his grip. “Before you rattle my bones right out of my—”
The words wither as I turn to face him. Blood streaks his face, leaking from his eyes, nose, and ears.
“You’re bleeding,” I breathe, reaching for him.
Evander captures my wrist. “It looks worse than it is.”
He’s lying. It takes severe damage to make an Eternal bleed like this.
“Are you dying? Be honest with me.”
A mirthless chuckle barks out of him. “No. I’m receiving a lesson in obedience.”
My brows squeeze together. “Alexios isn’t taking kindly to your rebellion, is he?”
“Oh, he’s delighted. My organs are currently liquefying themselves in celebration.” With a wince, Evander sinks down onto a nearby rock, his wings settling around him. “Now then.” He pats his thigh. “You’re hurt, and I’d like to put my favorite mortal back together again while I’m still coherent.”
His favorite mortal. I almost sneer at him, remembering his words to his brother. She’s a nice piece of ass to enjoy while I’m bored.
Right. I’m sure I’ve been the most entertaining plaything he’s had in ages. Definitely the only one who’s never put up with his shit.
I level him with a flat stare. “I don’t want you healing me. Not when you’re like this.”
“I’ve had a few centuries to get good at compartmentalizing the pain when Alexios yanks the leash. Get your ass over here.”
My nails bite into my palms. It’s a physical ache, this need to crawl into his lap and bury my face in the warm crook of his neck. To breathe him in until he’s the only thing in my head.
But he’s just a god mending his favorite fuck-toy.
“Quick and impersonal,” I force out.
And just like that, the warmth that had crept into his features disappears, replaced by the cold, unreadable mask of the Wolf. “Fine.”
I lower myself onto his thighs and brace for the onslaught.
His magic sinks into me, seeking out all the contusions with unerring precision. But it’s brisk, perfunctory—a dispassionate mending stripped of gentleness. In and out and done.
The space between our bodies becomes an ocean of distance. An expanse where fragile, impossible things curl in on themselves and quietly wither.
But then, I always knew how this story ended: in blood and destruction.
I thought I was so careful. That I’d shored up the crumbling walls of my stupid, stubborn heart.
Sealed all the stress fractures and boarded up the rotting doors.
That I wouldn’t let the Wolf tunnel through my armor and take up residence in the rubble.
I miscalculated. Let him past my guard to burrow where soft girls keep their dreams and tender hopes.
Because I caught feelings for the beautiful knife destined for my back.
It was all a game she thought she could win.
I flinch at the memory of Evander’s words. Because I forgave him at the griefwood, but it still stings. I wonder if this is what lunacy feels like. Wanting something so desperately even as you understand, intimately, the shape of its ending.
And stupidly wanting it anyway.
When Evander’s power finishes knitting me together and withdraws, I lunge off his lap.
“Thank you for playing along in Hellevig. For holding me and making it convincing. I know it was to placate Theodora, but I-I’m enforcing your end of our bargain.
You promised me a head start, and I intend to use it. ”
To wallow and prepare myself for heartbreak.
I turn on my heel, gravel crunching beneath my boots. Already seeking the winding deer trail out of this copse. I don’t know where I’m going, and I don’t care. Just away.
But Evander’s voice yanks me up short. “I wasn’t playing along.”
The world goes still like the charged hush before a storm. My heart slams against my ribs.
“Nothing I said or did in Hellevig was for your sister’s benefit.
” His voice is quieter now, almost… hesitant.
As if he’s tasting the shape of his confession.
“I held you because I needed to touch you. Because I was losing my mind after you left.” An uneven exhale leaves him.
“My mother’s roses are dead. Just up and withered.
Because the realm knows what I’ve been too craven to admit. ”
No.
He doesn’t get to do this after shattering me into so many pieces. He doesn’t get to demolish what’s left. Fuck him.
“I heard you the other night,” I say, keeping my tone even, “with your brother. You were very clear about what I am to you.” I glance over my shoulder at him, my fingers flexing.
Control, Bryony. “So you can save the mind games. I won’t fight you in the end.
I’ll let you take your vengeance as neatly as possible, but I’m asking you not to make it hurt more.
If I’ve made you feel even an ounce of compassion, give me that much. ”
I’ve never seen so much quiet devastation in his face before.
“Alexios lets Bastien off the leash for a few hours each centennial,” he says quietly.
“With him at full power, there wasn’t a damn thing I could have done to stop him from killing you.
So, I had to be what my brother needed to see.
I had to—” His jaw flexes. “I had to lie to us both.”
The ache in my chest gives a vicious squeeze. “Why are you doing this? Is this another game? One final twist of the knife?”
He closes the distance between us, caging me against the trunk of a tree. “If this is another game, then I’m admitting defeat. I’m telling you that you’ve won.” His head dips, lips grazing my cheek. “Nemesis. I’m telling you that I’ve fallen wretchedly, stupidly in love with—”
“Stop. Please, don’t.” I can’t breathe around the pressure in my throat. I squeeze my eyes shut, fighting for balance.
But Evander grazes my jaw, his touch unbearably tender. As if I’m precious. Cherished. “Look at me.”
“Ishkah. I can’t.” Hot tears streak down my cheeks.
Please stop.
I scrabble for composure, but I’m unraveling, splitting at the seams, and if I don’t get away from him—
“Just this once, I’m not obeying that word,” Evander says, wiping away my tears.
“Because when Alexios comes for me—and he will come—I need you to be untouchable. To belong to me so completely that not even another Eternal can contest it.” He tenses like he’s bracing himself.
“I’m impulsive. Cruel. Selfish down to the fucking marrow.
But I love you, you chaotic, reckless girl.
I love you, and losing you would break me. So let me Claim you.”
And there it is—the killing blow. Like he’s cracked my ribs open and seized my heart in his fist.
Because this is so much worse than him despising me.
“A Claim isn’t love.” I push at his chest. “It’s ownership.”
Something complicated moves across Evander’s face. All the raw, wretched wanting laid bare. “Listen to me very carefully, you impossible creature. I would never demand your submission or your surrender—”
I snort, arching a brow.
“Outside of mutually enjoyable naked scenarios,” he amends. “But I’m not asking for that. I’m offering all of me. Every fucked-up, unworthy piece. It’s all yours.”
He backs up to unfasten his shirt from between his wings, shrugging the garment off. His skin glows in the light, muscles shifting.
And then, in a move that steals the air from my lungs, he sinks to his knees.
My heart rate picks up. “What are you doing?”
“Proving a point. Do you have any idea what it means for a god to kneel? To prostrate himself? To let anyone touch his wings?”
Slowly, he takes my hand and guides it to his wing. My chest tightens as I glide my fingers along the soft arch, marveling at the way the feathers resettle. So many emotions expand through my chest, too big for my body to hold them all.
Evander’s lashes flutter closed as a shiver rolls through him. A faint groan rises in his throat, and the sound tugs at something low in my belly.
“This is the most profound gesture of surrender we can offer,” he says hoarsely as I stroke his feathers. “Exposing our wings is like baring our throats. Giving up everything we are to the one person in the realms we deem worthy. No one’s ever touched my wings before, Devaliant. Just you.”
A small, secret part of me fractures. The part that still harbors impossible yearnings. It fills my veins with light, with the reckless urge to take what he’s offering.
So I do. I keep nudging my fingers through his covert feathers. Evander tips his head back with a moan, wings going loose and pliant as I explore.
“This is a privilege reserved only for Chosen.” His words are raw. “Those we invite to share a soulbond. A reciprocal, permanent Claim. One a human hasn’t shared with a god in my lifetime.”
Slowly, so slowly, Evander withdraws a blade from his boot and presses the hilt into my palm. The metal is warm from his skin, the cross guard inlaid with an engraving of a wolf with its teeth bared in a snarl, wreathed in flame. His insignia.
“You deserve a choice.” He places his hand over mine and gently curls my fingers around his dagger.
“There are two paths ahead of you, and I’m asking you to pick.
Carve your mark into my skin. Reclaim every shred of agency stolen from you and take me in trade.
Be my equal and walk at my side for eternity.
” He looses a breath, composing himself.
“Or cut me loose right here, right now, and I swear to you I’ll never again burden you with my inconvenient feelings.
One word is all it’ll take, and this will be the last you ever see of me. ”
I stare down at him, at this god kneeling in supplication for me. Offering up his wings to my touch after everything he told me at the griefwood. Offering me forever.
His eyes meet mine, and he whispers, “Can I be yours?”