Chapter 32
Hayden
The funeral home is painfully quiet.
It’s the kind that claws, stretching through the walls, slipping beneath doors, curling around my ribs, waiting to drag me under.
And I let it. Days blur as I prepare one body after another, washing, dressing, stitching with care.
Irene’s concern shows in every glance. Zane and Porter circle me cautiously, staying in town far longer than I would have thought, trying to draw me out, but their words nudge at me uselessly.
There’s nothing left to get through to.
Before Levi, I was alone because I chose to be. It was self-inflicted. A precaution against the ache of attachment. I lived in the in-between, untouched by the messy human entanglements of love and loss.
But now?
Now I know what it feels like to be seen.
To wake up to warm skin and vibrant color and soft laughter and tangles in my sheets. What it means to belong to someone.
And I can’t unknow it.
I brace my hands against the cool metal of the prep table, breath unsteady. I should be working. I should be focusing. But my hands shake, my entire body tense, and for the first time in my existence, I have absolutely nothing to tether me.
No fight with the Fates.
No alleged loophole.
No Levi.
Even my shadows have abandoned me, as if they preferred him, too. Once restless extensions of my body and soul, curling along walls. Now, they barely reach for me.
Faint smudges at my feet, nothing more than an afterthought. Like they barely exist.
Even the spirits have gone quiet. No souls waiting for closure, no whispers in corners, no fleeting glances.
It feels like I’ve been voted out of another life.
Again.
Like I don’t belong anywhere.
“Fuck, Hayden. You’re barely even here.” Zane stands in the doorway, arms crossed, expression pinched like he’s been watching too long.
I exhale sharply. “What do you want?”
He sighs, stepping farther into the room, worry deepening the lines around his eyes. He looks painfully mortal. “You look like absolute hell.”
I huff a humorless laugh and run a hand through my hair. “How observant of you.”
Zane doesn’t smile.
“You’re shutting down,” he says simply.
I don’t respond.
“Angry, I know what to do with,” he says, leaning against the counter, voice quieter now. “This? I don’t. I’ve seen you at rock bottom before. Back when the Act first went into effect and you were filled with all that anger. At us. At me.” He tilts his head. “But, Hayden…this scares me even more.”
I stiffen.
Zane rubs a hand over his jaw. “Porter and I are sticking around a little longer. You know where to find us.” He pushes off the counter. “But you need to decide if this is how your story ends, little brother.”
I nod mechanically, unable to feel anything beyond the hollowed-out ache in my chest.
Zane hesitates like he wants to say more, then shakes his head and leaves. I stare at the doorway long after he’s gone. Silence settles in again, colder this time. In my reflection in the stainless-steel cabinets, grief lines etched so deep, I wonder if this shattered stranger is all that remains.
· · ·
Porter doesn’t knock. Just strides in, as though lifetimes of silence hadn’t created the space between us. As though forgetting me for decades didn’t revoke his right to walk through my door like nothing’s changed.
I don’t look up. I don’t acknowledge him. I busy myself with pointless adjustments, a deliberate attempt to keep him at arm’s length. Straightening a sleeve, smoothing a lapel, fussing with a pocket square that doesn’t need fixing.
But still, he lingers. His silent, unwavering stare burrowing under my skin until it’s impossible to ignore.
“Don’t you have anywhere else to be?” I mutter, voice flat.
Porter doesn’t take the bait. He just remains rooted in place, arms crossed, staring at me as if I’m the final puzzle piece in some riddle he can’t solve.
I hate it.
I glance up, ready to snap at him, but his expression stops me.
It’s concern. Real, unmistakable concern.
It only pisses me off more.
He exhales through his nose. “I’m genuinely worried about you, Hayden. More than I probably have a right to be.”
I swallow hard, my voice sharp when I finally find it. “You don’t get to do this.”
Porter tilts his head. “Do what?”
My eyes snap to his, unruly shadows sputtering at my feet. “Pretend you suddenly care. Like you and Zane didn’t spend lifetimes proving how easy it is to forget me. To move on. To live your bright little mortal lives while I kept drowning in the dark.”
My brother’s jaw tightens but I don’t stop.
“Where was this brotherly love when I lived in this isolation, chasing a solution to a disaster that wasn’t even of my making?”
My breath comes harder now, my hands clenched into fists.
Porter doesn’t flinch, but his voice shakes slightly, honest in a way that disarms every defense I’ve ever built. “You’re right, Hayden. We failed you. I failed you.”
I blink, momentarily stripped of my anger by the raw sincerity of his admission.
I narrow my eyes. “What?”
Porter sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. “I said you’re right. We left. We didn’t check in. We didn’t fight for a way back. Because unlike you,” he says, taking a deliberate step forward, “we moved on. Moving on was easier than looking back. But that doesn’t make it right.”
I grit my teeth, starting to turn away because I’ve carried their absence like proof. Proof that even gods can fade if no one remembers them.
But he doesn’t let me.
“That was selfish, Hayden. We should’ve been here for you more.” He catches my shoulder, steady. I hate that it steadies me. “But we’re here now,” he says, moving his hand from my shoulder to my face. “And yeah, maybe that doesn’t mean shit to you right now, but it’s the truth.”
Silence hangs between us, thick and suffocating.
I go to turn back to my work but Porter won’t let me, his pale blue eyes pouring into mine.
“Have you ever considered,” he says softly, almost carefully, “that maybe what’s eating you alive right now isn’t about the Fates at all?
Maybe you’ve been fighting to go back for so long you forgot to ask if it’s even what you want.
Maybe it’s about finally admitting what you do.
Want is not betrayal, Hayden. It’s direction. ”
I freeze.
Because that’s the thought that’s been slithering at the edges of my mind, the one I’ve been shoving down, refusing to acknowledge.
And here Porter is dragging it into the light.
He pulls me into a hug and I want to resist. I want to keep the distance that’s grown familiar between us all these years. To stick with the status quo.
But I’m incapable of doing that anymore.
Of pretending I haven’t been missing this for what feels like an eternity.
Porter pulls me to his chest, crushing any remaining distance.
“I meant what I said, little brother,” he whispers.
“You don’t need the past. Because from where I’m standing, you’ve found something far better.
Someone worth staying for.” He squeezes tighter, lowering his voice.
“That’s rarer than immortality, Hayden. Don’t run from it. ”
We stand like this for a moment, two brothers locked in an embrace.
Eventually, he slips out, leaving the room suddenly emptier.
And I sit in that quietness, trying desperately, and failing, to drown out the undeniable truth in every word he said.
· · ·
Irene sets a steaming mug in front of me firmly, the porcelain clinking against the wood. “Drink.”
I don’t have it in me to argue. I lift the cup and sip slowly, letting the warmth seep into my bones even if the taste doesn’t quite register. Irene sits across from me, her hands folded neatly in her lap.
Then, in true Irene fashion, she goes straight for the jugular.
“So,” she says, “have you spoken to him yet?”
I don’t need to ask who she means. I set the cup down, watching the tea bag drift. “No.”
She nods, like she expected that. “And does he know why?”
“I’ve tried,” I admit, throat tight. “Calls, messages…nothing. He told me to figure out what I want.”
Irene raises a brow. “And?”
I look down at my hands.
I’ve spent centuries defining myself by what I lost, what I wanted to reclaim…only to realize that I might have already found something better and let it walk away.
I miss him. So much it aches.
But I don’t say any of that, just shake my head instead.
Irene sips her tea. “You’re being a fool, Hayden.”
I huff. “Thanks for that insight.”
She leans forward, resting her elbows on her knees. “You’re brilliant…one of the sharpest minds I’ve ever known. But astonishingly stubborn when it comes to your heart.”
I stay quiet.
“I don’t pretend to know everything that goes on with you,” she says.
“We’ve respected each other’s privacy. Built something that works precisely because we don’t intrude.
But sometimes, distance isn’t a kindness.
It’s avoidance. And it would appear you’ve finally found what you’ve been searching for… and you’re letting it slip away.”
I clench my jaw.
Her expression softens. “Whatever war you’ve been waging with yourself, you need to decide if holding on to the past is worth losing the only future that’s ever made you truly happy.”
My stomach twists.
Irene stands, smoothing her hands over her already smooth hair. “You don’t have to decide tonight,” she says, squeezing my shoulder lovingly before she heads for the door. “But I suspect you already know your decision…even if you’re afraid to face it.”
· · ·
I don’t sleep anymore.
Not since I pushed Levi away. Not since the memory of him leaving became a permanent ache behind my ribs. Not since he said, You need to figure out what you want. I’ve been drowning in those words ever since.