Chapter 35 Neve
Neve
“You have a visitor.”
Atlas’s voice filled the doorway before he did, deep enough to roll down my spine. I blinked up from the book I was pretending to read, confusion prickling through me. A visitor? Here? In his house?
My pulse skittered. “Who?”
He only raised a brow, that unreadable calm carved into every line of him. Then a shadow shifted behind him, and…
“Zelda?”
I squealed before my brain fully caught up. I was already off the bed, my bare feet slapping against the hardwood, launching myself at her like a child who’d been starved of candy. She laughed as I crashed into her, her bangles clinking when she wrapped her arms around me.
“Oh my sweet girl,” she rasped into my hair, squeezing me tight enough to crack one of my bones. “Look at you.”
I stepped back, breathless, and looked awkwardly at Atlas, who had moved and was giving us space in that silent, watchful way of his. Always present. Always deadly calm.
I reached out and grabbed his forearm before he could retreat fully. His muscles tensed under my fingers; his eyes snapped to mine. For a second, everything stilled. There was no noise as time stood still. It was just him.
“Thank you,” I whispered.
He studied me like I was something fragile he was terrified of breaking. “Enjoy your time with your friend, Neve.” His voice lowered, soft but firm. “I’ll be right outside if you need anything.”
Something warm flickered in my chest — dangerous, stupid warmth — and then he was gone, the door clicking shut behind him.
Zelda pulled me back toward the bed with a grin. “Oh my God, Neve. What is this?” She gestured around the room — the soft sheets, the warm light, the quiet order that didn’t match my old life at all. “How did you end up in a stranger’s house like some little lost dove?”
I sat cross-legged across from her, picking at the hem of my top. “It’s complicated.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Complicated like… you’re in danger? Or complicated like… you ran off with a hot man and didn’t text me?”
“It’s not—” I stopped. Because neither answer was wrong, technically. “Zelda, I’m safe. I promise. I just… I can’t come home yet.”
“And the bruises on your arms? The ones on your face? How am I supposed to believe you’re safe?”
“This?” I asked, touching my cheek. “This was just a misadventure. You have to believe me—I’m okay. I’m going to be okay.”
She stared at me for a long moment. Her face softened. “You know I read your cards, right? You can’t lie to me. Not really.”
I rolled my eyes. “Don’t start.”
“Oh, I will start.” She bumped her knee against mine. “But first, I need to put you out of your misery. Paolo finally asked me out.”
That pulled an actual smile from me. “No.”
“Yes.” She preened. “Weekend date. Dinner, dancing, possibly something sinful. I’ll let you know.”
I laughed, and it felt strange and wonderful and a little painful. Like remembering how to breathe after being underwater for too long.
“And when are you coming home to move in with me?” she pressed. “You already promised. I’ve got your side of the wardrobe cleared out.”
I swallowed hard. “I… need to stay here. For a bit.”
She searched my face, her smile fading into concern. “Neve—”
“It’s okay,” I insisted. “Really. Just… trust me.”
Zelda didn’t push. That had never been her style.
Instead, she reached into her bag and pulled out her deck of cards — the old, worn one she treated like a living, breathing thing. The gold edges flashed as she set them between us.
“Fine,” she sighed, fanning the cards with practiced fingers. “But then we’re doing a reading. Because something’s going on with you, and I’m not leaving until I get a peek at whatever the universe is screaming about.”
I tensed, because there was something screaming. More than she could imagine.
But I nodded anyway, because it was Zelda, and because having her there felt like someone opening a window in a room I hadn’t known was suffocating me.
She shuffled once, twice, three times.
“Alright, Neve.” Her voice was low, her eyes bright with mischief and wisdom. “Let’s see what secrets you’ve been keeping from me.”
Zelda tapped the deck lightly, as if waking something ancient. Her rings clinked against each other, soft chimes in the quiet room.
“Okay, honey, let’s see what the universe wants to tell you today.”
I snorted, but my fingers still trembled when I placed my hands over hers, over the cards. The familiar warmth of her presence helped, but there was a cold thread of nerves sliding under my skin.
She noticed, because this was Zelda, and she let nothing get past her.
“You’re shaking,” she whispered.
“I’m fine.”
Uh-huh. Even I didn’t believe myself.
Outside the door, a floorboard creaked — barely audible. Most people wouldn’t have heard it. But the hairs at the back of my neck rose.
Atlas hadn’t gone far. He’d said he’d be right outside if I needed anything. Apparently that included breathing the same air I did.
Zelda started shuffling. “Think of what you want to know.”
I couldn’t help it — I glanced toward the door.
She raised an eyebrow. “Oh, wow. You’ve got that ‘someone is haunting me’ look.”
I coughed. “I—no—just shuffle.”
She laughed and pulled the first card, laying it down with a dramatic flourish.
The Tower.
My stomach dropped.
“Oh boy,” she mused. “Someone’s life burned to the ground recently.”
I swallowed. “Maybe.”
“Not maybe.” She tapped the card. “This is destruction, danger, trauma… and survival. Neve, you didn’t just fall into someone’s spare bedroom. You were sought.”
My heart pounded against my ribs. Behind the door, there was another shift of weight, and I knew Atlas was listening. I could feel his presence; hot, tense, unblinking.
Zelda drew the next card.
The Emperor.
She whistled. “Well, damn.”
“What?”
“This is a man,” she exclaimed, her eyes dancing. “A powerful man. Older than you. Stoic. Dangerous in a ‘touch her and die’ kind of way. Someone who commands rooms. Someone who doesn’t let people close.”
I forgot how to breathe.
She tilted her head. “And yet… you’re in this house.”
The air charged, humming. On the other side of the door, I heard the faintest inhale — like Atlas was silently cursing the accuracy of a piece of painted cardboard.
Zelda pulled the next card.
The Devil.
My cheeks heated instantly.
“Oh-ho-ho,” she crowed. “Okay, baby girl. This is obsession. Possession. Temptation. A connection that’s not healthy but also not going anywhere.”
“I don’t—Zelda, no,” I stammered.
“Neve,” she breathed slowly, “is there a man here?”
I shook my head too fast. “No.” And outside, I swore the world stopped moving.
Zelda arched her brow. “You’re a terrible liar.”
She pulled another card.
The Knight of Swords.
A warrior. Violent. Protective. Reckless in all the ways that mattered.
Zelda’s gaze lingered. “He saved you.”
My throat closed. Saved. Claimed. Trapped. Protected. I didn’t know the difference anymore.
“And he’s not done,” she added softly. “This man… whoever he is… he’s not letting you go anytime soon.”
Zelda shuffled again. “Last one.”
She flipped it.
The Lovers.
My breath caught.
She nodded once, as if sealing a verdict. “There’s a bond here. A real one. Doesn’t matter if you don’t understand it yet. Doesn’t matter if it scares the hell out of you. The fates are already in motion.”
I stared at the card — two figures, two paths, two fates intertwined.
Zelda squeezed my hand. “Neve, just be sure he deserves you.”
I forced a smile in her direction. But all I could think about was the shadow standing guard on the other side of the wood… and how the cards had just tied my fate to his.