By the third day in the Underworld, Eva had learned four important things.

First: the palace never truly slept.

Second: the walls whispered after midnight.

Third: nothing in the kitchens had recognizable origins.

And fourth—

Everyone expected her to kneel.

It started shortly after sunrise.

Or whatever counted as sunrise in a kingdom with no actual sun.

Eva sat near the enormous library windows wrapped in a dark green blanket she strongly suspected cost more than her entire childhood home. Several books lay scattered across the black table before her, all written in ancient languages that appeared personally offended by readability.

She had been pretending to study them for nearly an hour.

Mostly she was spying on the palace staff.

The servants moved nervously through the library carrying stacks of silver documents and armfuls of black candles. No one spoke above a whisper. Every few minutes someone glanced toward the corridor doors with visible dread.

Interesting.

Something was happening.

Eva looked up as one particularly anxious servant hurried past.

“What’s going on?”

The servant nearly dropped an entire tower of books.

“The Convocation, my lady.”

Eva blinked.

“The what?”

The poor woman immediately looked horrified.

Apparently answering questions remained emotionally traumatic here.

“The court gathering,” she whispered quickly. “The gods have arrived.”

Ah.

Wonderful.

Exactly what every woman wanted before breakfast.

Before Eva could ask anything else, the library doors opened.

The atmosphere shifted instantly.

Not because of magic.

Because of him.

Acheron entered the room dressed entirely in black again, though this time the silver embroidery along his coat sleeves resembled moving shadows rather than stitched thread. His gloves had returned. So had that terrifying composure.

Unfortunately.

Eva had started finding the cracks underneath it interesting.

The servants bowed immediately.

Every single one.

Heads lowered.

Eyes down.

Absolute silence.

Eva remained exactly where she was.

Acheron’s silver gaze settled on her instantly.

“You were summoned.”

Eva frowned.

“That sounds threatening.”

“It is a formal assembly.”

“That still sounds threatening.”

He stepped farther into the library.

The shadows trailing behind him slid slowly across the marble floor toward her chair before curling back again.

At this point, his darkness had developed the behavior patterns of emotionally unstable cats.

Eva leaned back slightly.

“And if I refuse to attend this horrifyingly named gathering?”

“You cannot.”

“That’s becoming your favorite phrase.”

Acheron’s expression remained unreadable.

“The court wishes to see the mortal responsible for the fracture.”

“How flattering.”

“Their interest is not admiration.”

Eva sighed heavily and stood from the table.

“Well, if your terrifying immortal government intends to judge me, I’d at least like warning before execution.”

“You are not being executed.”

“That pause before answering was extremely unhelpful.”

One of the servants made a small choking sound.

Acheron ignored it.

As usual.

He extended one gloved hand toward the library doors.

“Come.”

Eva narrowed her eyes suspiciously.

“You say that like I’m being led toward either a political disaster or a sacrifice.”

Silence.

“…Acheron.”

“The outcome depends entirely on your behavior.”

“That is not comforting.”

The walk toward the Convocation chamber was significantly worse than dinner.

At least during dinner only a handful of terrifying nobles had stared at her with open hostility.

Now the entire palace seemed to know she was coming.

Servants flattened themselves against walls as she passed. Guards watched her openly. Several shadow-creatures lurking near the ceiling beams actually hissed when they saw her.

Rude.

The deeper they traveled into the palace, the colder everything became.

The corridors widened into massive halls carved entirely from black stone. Silver fire burned inside towering iron braziers. Ancient statues lined the walls — gods holding severed crowns, blindfolded kings kneeling before shadowed figures, armies swallowed by darkness.

Cheerful decorating choices.

The massive doors ahead slowly opened.

And immediately, every instinct Eva possessed screamed at her to turn around.

The Convocation chamber was enormous.

Circular tiers of black marble rose high into darkness overhead, each occupied by figures draped in silver and shadow. Some looked human enough.

Others absolutely did not.

One woman had eyes entirely made of gold fire.

A tall figure near the far wall appeared to be missing half his face beneath moving darkness.

Another sat unnaturally still while ravens perched along his shoulders like living armor.

Every single one turned toward Eva the moment she entered.

The silence hit like a physical force.

Eva suddenly understood why mortals invented religion.

Because when beings like this looked at you, survival felt negotiable.

Acheron descended the central staircase toward the chamber floor without hesitation.

Eva followed more slowly.

Mostly because every god in the room currently looked one inconvenience away from murder.

Whispers spread instantly through the chamber.

“She carries the contract.”

“The mortal survived his touch.”

“The fracture spreads because of her.”

Interesting.

Apparently she had become gossip.

A severe-looking woman seated near the highest tier leaned forward slightly.

Her voice echoed unnaturally across the chamber.

“You brought a living soul into the Ashen Court.”

Acheron did not bow.

“She entered by contract.”

“And remains unpurged.”

Eva frowned slightly.

That sounded deeply concerning.

Another god spoke from the shadows near the far wall.

“The veil weakens.”

“The mortal should be destroyed before the corruption spreads.”

Several figures murmured in agreement.

Eva crossed her arms.

Honestly, she was getting rather tired of hearing variations of kill the mortal.

The woman with burning eyes studied her coldly.

“Kneel before the Court of Death.”

Silence followed.

Acheron’s shadows stilled instantly.

Every gaze in the chamber fixed on Eva.

And somewhere deep in her exhausted mortal soul, something stubborn rose immediately to the surface.

Absolutely not.

Eva looked around slowly at the gathered gods.

Then she said:

“No.”

The chamber froze.

Not metaphorically.

Actually froze.

Frost cracked violently across the black marble floor beneath Acheron’s throne.

Several gods stood immediately.

The ravens near the wall exploded upward into the air with harsh cries.

One of the shadowed figures hissed, “Insolent creature.”

Eva’s pulse hammered painfully, but she forced herself not to move.

No knees.

No prayers.

Not anymore.

The woman with burning eyes stared at her in disbelief.

“You stand before gods.”

“Yes,” Eva replied evenly. “And so far I’m deeply unimpressed by their hospitality.”

Somewhere behind her, one of the palace guards audibly stopped breathing.

Acheron remained completely motionless beside the throne.

Too motionless.

The shadows around him had gone utterly still.

Which somehow felt worse than violence.

The golden-eyed goddess rose slowly from her seat.

“You dare deny the Court?”

Eva lifted her chin despite the terror clawing through her stomach.

“I crossed mountains to save my sister. I survived your Gate. I signed your contract. If your gods require kneeling before they listen to people, then perhaps your gods are simply insecure.”

The chamber erupted instantly.

Voices crashed across the hall.

Several gods rose from their seats at once.

Magic flared violently through the chamber in silver and black waves.

Eva’s survival instincts finally began screaming properly now.

Acheron stood.

The entire chamber fell silent immediately.

Not gradually.

Instantly.

Power rolled through the hall hard enough to shake the marble beneath Eva’s feet. The shadows across the chamber walls spread outward like living wings behind him.

The silver in his eyes burned dangerously bright.

“She is bound to me,” Acheron said quietly.

That was all.

Not shouted.

Not threatened.

And somehow far worse because of it.

The chamber remained deathly silent.

Every god present understood the warning.

Eva looked sideways toward him carefully.

Something had changed.

Not in his expression.

In the atmosphere around him.

The Court feared him.

Not respected.

Feared.

And for the first time since arriving in the Underworld, Eva realized something deeply unsettling:

Acheron had not protected her because he cared whether she lived.

He protected her because the thought of someone else harming her made something ancient and violent inside him wake up.