Eris screamed as he dragged himself across the clearing. He pried the blade from Evren's chest and let her down gently. Tears ran down his cheeks, wetting her own. She didn't move. She didn't breathe. She was...gone.

    He cradled her in his arms, smoothing hair from her colorless face. She was gone. His mate was gone. She'd killed Celosia and taken her own life in the process. She had spared him the choice. She had spared him the fight. She'd just...done it.

    She was gone. Those terrible empty words echoed through his mind. She was gone. She was gone. She was gone. He was alone again. This beautiful, broken, strong, cunning, and cruel little Human was gone. She'd just come home and now...now he had lost her forever.

    Eris barely heard Azriel kneel beside Celosia's body. He barely heard the words the Illyrian spoke. "These scars came from a fire."

    He didn't reply. Evren was dead. She was gone. She was gone. She was gone. He felt a hand touch his shoulder. Eris didn't acknowledge it. His shoulders shook with silent sobs. The clearing was quiet. It was too quiet.

    He would go home and the house would be quiet. There would be no music. There would be no sweet laughter. There would be no brilliant smile. There would be no hand in his own. No fingers tracing his scars, the lines in his palm, the shape of his lips. No arms around him. There would be no one to keep warm throughout the night. No one to wake up to in the morning. No one to talk to. No one who understood.

    She was gone. His mate was gone. Evren was dead. Eris kept reaching for that empty hole in his chest, hoping to feel the faintest spark of the Mating Bond. He felt nothing. Only a cold, dark, unrelenting emptiness.

    How long would he be able to bear that emptiness before it consumed him entirely? How long could he bear the silence that was going to follow? How could he return home to the memories that waited? The good memories.

    He feared them more than he had ever feared the memories of his father. She would haunt him with every breath he drew. He knew he would see her at the piano. He'd hear her silently walking through the halls. He'd smell her scent on the pillow beside him. How could he bear it?

    Her blood stained his fingers, still warm, but her body was growing cold. How long had he been sitting here? That hand was still on his shoulder. Eris blinked, lifting his head slightly. The hand was Mor's.

    "Azriel told us what happened," she whispered. Eris' gaze left her face and drifted around the clearing. The High Lords and Ladies were all there. "We overpowered Beron's Loyalists. Your guards have been working on arresting them. You won."

    Eris loosed a painful breath and dropped his head again. "I have lost everything." His tears continued to fall. He couldn't stop them, even as he was aware of the others watching him. Mor's hand left his shoulder. "She had just started to live. I...had just started to live. We were never going to have much time together. I know that. But..." his voice broke. "We should've had more," he rasped.

    He touched his forehead to Evren's, closing his eyes. Cauldron save you, he thought. He knew the prayer by heart. He'd recited it so many times. Too many times. Mother hold you. Pass through the gates, and smell the immortal land of milk and honey. Fear no evil. Feel no pain.

    Eris kept his eyes closed. I won't ask you to come back. Find your parents. Find your rest. I never deserved you. I never deserved the time I got to spend with you. It was never going to be me. I was never supposed to find you. I was never supposed to be complete. I have done too many irrevocably terrible things, and the Mother knows it. You can go. I will let you go.

    He would, even if it would kill him to do it. "Eris," Helion said. He lifted his head, meeting Helion's golden gaze. "She can be Made, as Feyre was."

    His heart grasped at that seed of hope. He clamped it down, refusing to feel it. "She wouldn't have wanted to become High Fae."

    "Then she doesn't have to," Rhysand said. "Take her to Cretea. Use the Amulet. Bring back her mortal body, but give her a Fae's lifespan, as Drakon did for Miryam."

    Eris stared at the group, his hope growing even when he told it not to. "You would help me undo the wards?"

    One by one, the High Lords bowed their heads in consent. "No one has forgotten what you've done for the courts," Kallias said. His blue eyes glimmered with sympathy and understanding as he glanced at Viviane.

    Thesan nodded. "We would not begrudge you this. To find your mate is a rare gift. For her to be Human is rarer still. To find a mate willing to sacrifice her life for you and your people, one of the rarest gifts of all." Rhysand and Feyre exchanged knowing glances.

    Eris lifted Evren carefully. "There is still faebane in my system," he said. "She gave me a larger dose than the rest of you, but it should wear off before we reach Cretea."

    Rhysand touched a hand to Eris' shoulder. As the other High Lords began to vanish, they winnowed as well. Eris' heart pounded in his chest. The Amulet would work. He'd seen it work. It had brought back Azriel and so many others following the War with Koschei. It would bring back Evren too. He'd said he would let her go. He would apologize for lying later.

•~ ❘ ۞ ❘ ~•

    She was nothing and everything. She was nowhere and everywhere. She was space and stars and light and dark. She was sound and silence. She was shapeless, undefined. Infinite, yet finite.

    She was drifting aimlessly through a dark void. There was a shining light in the distance. A warm, gentle hand rested on her back. She expected to be guided to the light. Instead, she was held back.

    Two small stars appeared near the light. They swirled towards her, gradually taking on familiar shapes. She saw them and understood. She was being allowed to see them once more, as she'd always hoped, before passing on to her eternal torment.

    The whispered prayer of the male she loved had not been heard by the Mother. It was all right. She'd always known and accepted her fate. She wouldn't have been able to claim her own life if she hadn't.

    "Look at you," Anwyn said, hooking a finger beneath her chin. She blinked, realizing that she had a form now too. She had a chin. She had fingers and arms and legs. She was Human. "Look how you've grown."

    "We've seen it all," Dritan said. "We have seen your suffering, your sorrow, your anger, and your joy. We know who wronged you, and who you wronged. We know who loves you, and who you love."

    Anwyn wrapped her in a tight embrace. "A High Lord for our little Lady. He loves you so much. We have seen it. We know how great your love for him is in return."

    A High Lord. Her High Lord. She remembered him. She remembered his red hair and amber eyes, the honeyed color of his skin. She remembered the scars on his wrists. She remembered the lines in his palms. She remembered the way he danced. She remembered how he played the piano. She remembered how he had wept for her. How he had cared for her. She remembered him, her mate.

    "Have you nothing to say to us?" Dritan asked.

    "How long will I stay here?" She asked in reply. Her voice sounded foreign to her own ears.

    "Not long," Anwyn replied with a smile. "It is not your time."

    "What do you mean?"

    "It is not your time," Dritan repeated. "There are things left for you to do. Places left for you to see. People waiting for you to meet."

    "But you left and had all of those things."

    "We left because it was our time. It is not yours." Dritan hugged her too, squeezing his wife and daughter tightly.

    "You have so much time left," Anwyn murmured. "You have so much life." She let her parents hold her, tightening her arms around them even as their grips loosened.

    She felt herself being pulled far away from them and she did not resist. Wherever she was going, she knew she deserved it. She deserved her fate. The fate she had written for herself. The fate she had chosen. She deserved it.

•~ ❘ ۞ ❘ ~•

    Evren opened her eyes and bolted upright with a gasp. She coughed, feeling her chest just beneath her collarbone. The wound, her dagger, they were gone. She...she wasn't dead. She wasn't dying. She was in Eris' arms. He was sobbing with relief.

    Evren stared at him and felt an increasing pressure in her chest. She closed her eyes, relishing the feeling as the Mating Bond reformed, just as strong as it had been before. She could see and feel each individual glowing strand of it. Evren touched the Bond and felt Eris return it.

    He pulled her close, burying his face in her neck. She threaded her fingers through his hair, breathing in his familiar scent. "Where are we?" She whispered.

    "An island a short distance from Cretea." Evren looked past his shoulder. Eris didn't move. He was still sobbing silently, just holding her. Rhysand shoved his hands in his pocket. "We keep the Cauldron and the Dread Trove on this island. Only the seven High Lords together can undo the wards that protect it."

    "Why are we here?"

    "For this." A beautiful half-Fae female stood next to Rhysand. She held an amulet in her hands. "I am Miryam. This Amulet is part of the Dread Trove. It has the power to resurrect the dead and give them a Fae's lifespan, if the user wills it."

    Evren's eyes widened in surprise. "Are you saying..."

    "Yes." Miryam smiled. "Yes, you did die, but we brought you back. You will live a very long life, Evren Vanserra. A very long life indeed."

    "I...why would you use the Amulet on me?" Evren twisted, looking around the island. The other High Lords met her gaze.

    "Because you deserved it," Tamlin, High Lord of the Spring Court, answered. "You both deserved it."

    "Thank you," Eris rasped almost inaudibly. "Thank you." He kept repeating the phrase, his face still hidden in the crook of her neck.

    Whether he was thanking the High Lords, the Mother, or someone else, she didn't know. Evren bowed her head to the High Lords in silent gratitude. They returned the gesture. Evren pressed a kiss to Eris' temple.

    "Take me home," she said. She felt Eris nod in response. Evren tipped her head back, a prayer of thanks on her lips. She was alive. She would live for centuries. She could live as long as Eris. She was back. She was with her mate. She was going home.