The summons arrived before dawn.

Not through servants.

Not through Court messengers.

Through chains.

Eva woke to the sound of iron dragging across stone somewhere beyond her chamber walls. The noise echoed through the palace slowly, heavily, like something ancient being pulled unwillingly toward execution.

The contract beneath her wrist burned sharply the moment she opened her eyes.

Acheron.

Pain.

Restraint.

Fear exploded through the bond hard enough to force her upright instantly.

Outside the windows, the Underworld sky had gone completely black.

No silver rain.

No drifting mist.

Only darkness swallowing the horizon beyond the palace towers.

Something terrible had begun.

Eva shoved aside the blankets and crossed quickly toward the chamber doors just as Lucien burst into the room without warning.

The military commander looked furious.

Not irritated.

Furious.

Silver armor hung half-fastened across his shoulders while black ash streaked one side of his face like he’d already fought through part of the palace to get here.

“The Court moved early,” he said sharply.

Eva’s stomach tightened immediately.

“What happened?”

Lucien hesitated.

Which meant the answer was catastrophic.

“The gods called judgment against Acheron.”

Silence crashed through the chamber.

The contract pulsed violently.

Not cold now.

Contained.

Like something enormous had been chained down by force.

Eva stared at him.

“They can do that?”

“No,” Lucien answered grimly. “Not usually.”

That frightened her more somehow.

The palace corridors looked like war zones by the time they reached the throne sectors.

Shadows lashed violently through the walls while silver fire burned unstable blue instead of white. Entire sections of the palace had frozen solid beneath black frost spreading across ancient stone.

And everywhere—

Chains.

Massive silver chains covered in glowing divine runes stretched through the corridors toward the lower Court chambers.

Eva’s pulse stumbled painfully.

She recognized those symbols.

Not prison chains.

Binding seals.

The gods were restraining him.

The realization hit hard enough to make her physically stop walking.

Lucien grabbed her arm immediately.

“You cannot lose control in there.”

Eva looked at him in disbelief.

“I’m not the one currently being chained by immortals.”

“That is exactly why you need to stay calm.”

Wonderful.

Everything remained emotionally horrifying.

The lower judgment hall stood beneath the oldest part of the palace.

Eva had never seen it before.

And immediately wished to continue that tradition.

The chamber resembled a cathedral built for executions instead of worship. Massive black pillars disappeared into darkness overhead while silver fire poured down the walls like burning waterfalls.

Ancient gods filled the upper tiers.

Not Court nobles.

Older beings.

The kind immortals whispered about carefully.

At the center of the hall—

Acheron knelt in chains.

Eva forgot how to breathe.

The silver restraints wrapped around his wrists, throat, and shoulders, glowing violently against the shadows trying endlessly to break free around him. Black power crashed through the chamber in restrained waves while cracks spread beneath the floor at his knees.

The Lord of Death remained motionless.

But the restraint itself looked unstable.

Like the chains barely contained something far worse beneath them.

Eva’s chest tightened painfully.

Because even now—

Even chained—

Acheron looked terrifying.

The silver cracks beneath his skin had spread fully across one side of his throat now while shadows moved violently beneath them like living storms trapped under flesh.

And his eyes—

Gods.

His eyes immediately found hers.

The reaction nearly shattered the chamber.

The shadows around the restraints exploded outward violently while several chains cracked instantly beneath the pressure of his power surging toward her.

The gathered gods recoiled sharply.

“Contain him,” one voice thundered.

The chains tightened.

Acheron’s jaw locked visibly.

Pain ripped through the contract hard enough that Eva gasped aloud.

Lucien swore quietly beside her.

A tall goddess draped in silver robes rose from the upper tiers slowly.

“The throne destabilizes further each day,” she declared coldly. “The abyss awakens. The dead abandon judgment itself.”

Another god stepped forward.

“And all instability traces back to the mortal.”

The entire chamber turned toward Eva.

Wonderful.

Exactly the sort of social environment she enjoyed.

Eva lifted her chin anyway.

Fear crawled sharply through her ribs, but underneath it something harder rose instead.

Anger.

“They’re blaming him for protecting me?”

The silver-robed goddess looked at her without warmth.

“We blame him for choosing you over balance.”

The silence afterward felt enormous.

Because no one denied it.

Not even Acheron.

The shadows around his chains twisted violently against the floor while the contract pulsed with restrained fury beneath Eva’s skin.

One of the older gods descended slowly toward the center platform.

His voice shook the chamber itself.

“Acheron.”

The Lord of Death looked upward slowly.

“You were given dominion over death,” the god continued. “Yet now spring grows through your kingdom. Souls refuse judgment. The abyss recognizes a mortal woman.”

The chains tightened again.

Silver light cut sharply into Acheron’s skin.

Eva felt the pain through the contract instantly.

Her hands curled into fists.

“And now,” the god finished coldly, “you place her above eternity itself.”

Silence followed.

Acheron did not answer immediately.

The shadows throughout the hall had gone unnaturally still.

Waiting.

Watching.

Then finally—

Quietly—

“Yes.”

The chamber erupted.

Gods shouted across the upper tiers while divine light exploded violently through the judgment hall. Several chains snapped instantly around Acheron’s wrists as his power surged against the restraints.

Eva stared at him in disbelief.

He admitted it.

Not defensively.

Not reluctantly.

Honestly.

The silver-robed goddess rose sharply.

“You confess betrayal of the throne?”

Acheron’s gaze never left Eva.

“I confess nothing,” he said evenly. “You asked where my loyalty stands.”

The chains around his throat tightened violently.

Black cracks exploded across the chamber floor.

Lucien moved subtly closer to Eva beside the lower pillars.

Because everyone in the room suddenly realized the same thing:

The restraints were failing.

One of the elder gods raised a hand sharply toward Eva.

“Then surrender the mortal.”

The words hit the chamber like execution orders.

Acheron went completely still.

Not calm.

Dangerous.

The contract beneath Eva’s wrist exploded with emotion so violent it nearly knocked the breath from her lungs.

Possession.

Terror.

Love twisted into something monstrous.

The shadows beneath the judgment hall screamed.

Not metaphorically.

Actually screamed.

Every chain restraining Acheron cracked simultaneously.

The gods rose instantly across the chamber.

“Acheron,” one thundered sharply. “Stand down.”

The Lord of Death slowly lifted his head.

And Eva realized with sudden horrifying clarity—

They had pushed him too far.

The silver in his eyes had vanished completely now.

Only darkness remained.

Not empty darkness.

Hungry darkness.

Ancient enough to swallow kingdoms whole.

The chains around his throat snapped first.