───── A HEAVY SILENCE stretched across the room, everyone frozen in place as they stares at Emrys, whose head still rests on Aurelius's lap. The only sounds were the distant crackling of the fireplace and the slow, rhythmic breaths of the unconscious boy.

Aurelius, ever the dramatist, let out a long, exaggerated sigh as he absentmindly combed his fingers through Emrys's curls. His blue eyes glimmeres with mirth as they flicked toward Antares, who was grinning.

"Well, well," Aurelius muses, tilting his head in amusement yet a small glint of annoyance shine in his eyes. "I must say, Antares, you have quite the talent for making an entrance. A single kiss and a little revelation, and you've managed to render my Emrys completely unconscious. That's a rather annoying move."

Antares, for once, had nothing to say. His sharp gaze flickered between Emrys and Rosier, who stood stiffly with his arms crossed, his normally unreadable expression marred by irritation. The blonde Rosier was very pointedly not looking at Antares, his jaw tight, though whether it was because of Emrys's fainting spell or the earlier revelation about their so-called 'artifact' of a cousin, no one could quite tell.

Emrys stirres then, a faint groan escaping his lips. His fingers twitched slightly, then curled as if grasping at something unseen. Slowly, his eyelashes fluttered, dark lashes casting shadows against his pale cheeks.

"Brother!" Coventina goes to sit next to Aurelius, her hand covering Emrys's. She shoots a quick glare at Antares.

Aurelus brightenes immediately, patting his cheek lightly. "Oh, good, you're waking up. I was worried I'd have to dramatically cradle you in my arms until you came to."

Emrys blinks sluggishly, his eyes slowly coming into focus. The first thing he registeres was Aurelus's face above him, blue eyes fills with something between amusement and feigned concern.

The second thing he registeres was the weight of a dozen pairs of eyes staring at him.

The third thing was memory.

The kiss. The words. Antares. The whole overwhelming realization crashing into him like a tidal wave. "Antares fucking Black!"

A chokes noise left his throat, and before anyone could react, Emrys groaned loudly and promptly rolled over-straight off Aurelus's lap.

Aurelius gasped in horror. "Emrys!"

The impact wasn't too harsh, but the noise that followed-a muffles, half-strangles groan from where Emrys now lay face-down on the floor-sent a ripple of stifled laughter through the room. Even Coventina, who still looked vaguely murderous, had to fight the twitch of her lips.

Emrys, still unmoving, let out a muffles, "I hate everything."

Aurelius, ever unbothered, leaned down with an exaggerates pout. "Oh, darling, you're being dramatic."

Emrys turns his head just enough to glare at him. "I fainted."

"And you did it beautifully," Aurelius says, nodding approvingly.

Antares, who had been watching the entire exchange in stunned silence, finally let out a short breath and ran a hand through his hair. "So... are we going to talk about this or...?" He grins.

Emrys let out a loud, theatrical groan and buries his face in the floor again.

Rosier exhales sharply through his nose and finally turned his piercing gaze toward Antares. "You really don't know when to shut up, do you?"

Antares grins, patting Emrys's back in mock sympathy. "Oh, this is going to be so fun."

Emrys let out a loud, theatrical groan and buried his face in the floor again.

Emrys turns his head just enough to glare at him from his position on the floor. "I fainted because of you."

"Yeah," Coventina chimes in, her arms crosses, "and you did it with the grace of a distressed Victorian lady. I'm almost proud."

Anastacius, leaning casually against the wall, smirked. "The only thing missing was a fainting couch. I wish I saw him fainted - non offense, brother."

Aelora, standing beside him, nods solemnly. "A tragedy, truly."

Emrys groans louder.

Meanwhile, Antares, the source of Emrys's current humiliation, still looks slightly unconcerned, though amusement was beginning to creep into his expression. "You're acting like I killed you," he remarks dryly.

At that, Emrys suddenly spring up, pointing an accusatory finger at him. "You might as well have! Do you realize what you just dropped on me?"

Antares blinks, then shruggs. "I kissed your sister."

Emrys make an unintelligible noise of frustration. "Yes, and then you immediately followed it up with, 'our cousin is just an artifact,' like that's a normal thing to say!"

Antares opens his mouth, then shut it. Okay. When put like that... maybe he could have handled that better but his defense he did not know that Emrys was listening.

Before he could respond, Alastor let out a sharp laugh from where he stood beside his twin, Altair. "This is ridiculous."

Anastacius, arms folds, gave a slow nod. "Agreed. Can we move on from Emrys's dramatic collapse and get back to the fact that apparently, Draco's an artifact?"

"I am a what-?!" Draco blurts out.

At that, the mood in the room shifted. The amusement still lingered, but now it was edged with tension.

Emrys, his momentary embarrassment forgotten, took a breath. "Right. That." He turnz back to Antares, eyes narrowing. "Care to explain what, exactly, you meant by that?"

"I created him before."

Silence followed, heavy and expectant. The younger ones glanced at each other, their confusion evident, while those who knew-Altair, Alastor, Aerys, and Aurelius-exchanged knowing looks before sighing in near-unison.

Draco, whose entire existence had just been called into question, let out a dry, incredulous laugh. "I want to murder someone." He turned to Antares, eyes sharp with disbelief. "The fuck do you mean-you created me? Is it possible for men to-"

A sharp smack lands on the back of his head.

"Just listen," Delphina scolds, retracting her hand as Draco shot her an irritated glare.

Antares groans, rubbing his temples. "Fuck, you are all so annoying." Without another word, he dropped onto the couch, running a hand through his hair as if bracing himself for the conversation ahead. Then, in a voice laced with both frustration and exhaustion, he muttered, "Those who remember, just fucking sit next to me."

Aurelius sighed but didn't argue as he gracefully took the seat beside Antares, stretching his legs out in front of him with practiced ease. Aerys was next, her sharp eyes unreadable as she lowered hilerself onto the couch with a quiet thump.

The Prince twins, of course, took their time. Alastor rolls his eyes dramatically before flopping down on the opposite end of the couch, arms crosses. Altair, as always, was more composes but no less irritated as he settled in beside his twin.

The room remained tense as the rest of the group stood, waiting for an explanation. Emrys, still visibly overwhelmed, crossed his arms and exhaled. "Alright," he says. "We're listening. Explain how the hell you-" He gesture_ vaguely at Antares. "-created Draco."

Antares leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. His expression was unreadable, a rare seriousness overtaking his usual sharp-edged demeanor. "It's not as simple as just creating him," he startes. "I remember it. And so do they." He nodded toward Aurelius, Aerys, and the Prince twins.

Draco scoffes, clearly unimpressed. "That's not an answer."

Antares shots him a look. "It's not an easy one to give, artifact."

Draco's glare sharpens. "Stop calling me that."

"Then stop acting like an idiot and listen," Aerys cuts in, her tone edged with impatience.

Altair sighes, leaning back into the couch. "You're not going to like this, Dray. None of you are. But it's the truth."

Aelora, arms crossed, looka between them. "Then tell him ─ tell us the damn truth."

Antares takes a deep breath. Then, finally, he speaks.

"It's not this life," he says coldly. "It's from before. Another cycle. Another existence. But this time..." His fingers clenches against his knee. "This time, things are different."

A ripple of unease swept through the room.

Draco swallowed hard. "How different are we talking?"

Antares's lips curls into something that wasn't quite a smirk, wasn't quite a grimace. "Different enough," he says.

"Different enough that I don't know how this one ends."

And for the first time that evening, the room fell into a stunned, unnerving silence.

Coventina, still standing, stares at Antares, her arms crossed but her expression unreadable. Her mind works through his words, through the implications of what he had just admitted.

Then, she broke the silence.

"Does that mean this happened before? More than once."

Antares turns to her. And for just a moment, the sharp edges of his usual demeanor softened. His gaze hold hers, a flicker of something almost wistful-something deeper than time itself. His undying love for her.

"Yes, little déesse."

The room seemed to exhale, but the tension remained, shifting into something more uncertain, more real.

They were totally not freaking out.

Emrys, who had been processing far too much in too little time, pinched the bridge of his nose. "Okay," he muttered, "I still don't know what the hell that means, but I'm assuming it's not good."

Aerys, ever the quiet observer, finally speaks. "It means," she says, voice measures, "that we're not just living this life. We've lived others before." She tilts her head slightly. "Haven't we, bastard?"

Antares's jaw tightens, but she nodded. "Yes."

Draco, still reeling from the whole artifact revelation, ran a hand through his hair. "I feel like we're skipping several steps in this explanation," he muttered.

Aurelius, lounging back on the couch, chuckles. "Oh, we absolutely are. But isn't the suspense thrilling?"

Coventina ignores them, her gaze still locked on Antares. "And what does this version mean?" she asks. "If things are different, does that mean..." She hesitates, her voice dropping just slightly. "Does that mean we get to choose how it ends?"

For a moment, Antares didn't answer. Then, finally, he sigha. "That's the thing, little déesse." His lips quirked, but it was a tired sort of smile. "I don't know." The sadistic cruel Antares Black was tired.

That admission settled uneasily in the air.

Anastacius leans forward, eyes sharp. "Then we make sure it ends in our favor."

Altair hummes. "For once, I actually agree with that."

Aerys nodded. "If this cycle is different, then we need to figure out how before it repeats itself again."

Aelora looks at Antares. "And you're certain this has all happened before?"

Antares's expression was unreadable. "Not just happened, brat." His gaze darkens. "It's been designed to happen."

The words send a chill through the room.

Delphina exhales sharply. "Well, that's ominous."

Emrys groans, already regretting every decision that had led him to this moment. "I need a drink.

Aurelius smirks. "Oh, darling, we all do."

But beneath the usual banter, beneath the lingering confusion and tension, there was something new.

A realization. A quiet, unspoken understanding.

Whatever came next-whatever truths they uncovered-one thing was clear.

They weren't just fighting against fate.

They were fighting against the ones who wrote it.

And they will fight it together. Unconquerable.

COVENTINA'S POV

She did not notice it but everyone left.

Coventina Potter feels as though the world had shifted beneath her feet, leaving her strands in a reality she no longer recognized. The weight of Antares's words pressed against her chest, making it hard to breathe.

"Does that mean this happened before? More than once."

She hadn't expects him to look at her like that-like she was something sacred, something lost and found all at once. His voice had been softer than she'd ever heard it, laced with something deeper than nostalgia. Why could he not just not love her? She did not deserve this.

"Yes, little déesse."

Her heart clenched at the name. It rolled off his tongue with an intimacy that sent a shiver down her spine, awakening something raw and unfamiliar within her.

What does he know that I don't?

She hated this feeling-this unknowing. Coventina had always been someone who could piece things together, who could fight through confusion and carve out clarity. But now?

Now, she was drowning in questions.

Had she lived before? Had she died before? Had she loved Antares before?

The thought unsettled her more than she wanted to admit. If this had all happened before-if their fates had been written and rewritten over and over-then who was she really? Just a pawn in someone else's grand design?

She wanted to scream, to demand answers that she wasn't sure she was ready to hear. But all she could do was stand there, heart pounding, fingers clenched into fists at her sides.

Her entire life had felt like a puzzle she could never quite solve, but now she wasn't sure she even had all the right pieces.

And worst of all?

Antares did.

And he was looking at her like he remembered.

Like he'd known her before she had even known herself.

Coventina swallows hard, forcing herself to meet his gaze. "And what happens now?" she asked, hating the way her voice waveres.

Antares exhales slowly. "That," he murmurs, "is the one thing I don't know."

The uncertainty in his voice only made the storm inside her rage harder.

Because if he didn't know-

Then how was she supposed to?

The weight of it settles deep in her chest, pressing against her ribs like a silent, unseen force. The air in the room felt thick, heavy with something ancient, something beyond all of them. Coventina swallows hard, forcing herself to meet Antares's gaze once more.

His eyes softens at the sight of her-always at the sight of her. He looks at her like she was the only thing in existence, the center of his universe, the reason for every breath he took. But beneath that unwavering devotion, beneath the gentle way he watches her, was something far darker. Something raw. Something hungry.

"Do I die?" she asks quietly.

Antares stills.

He didn't flinch. He didn't look away. But the silence that followed her question was louder than any answer he could have given.

Coventina knew.

A sharp breath left her lips, but she didn't let the fear consume her. She wasn't afraid of death-she had never been. What terrified her was the way Antares is looking at her now. Because it wasn't just grief in his eyes. It wasn't just longing.

It was fury.

Fury at the world. Fury at fate. Fury at the cycle that kept stealing her away from him.

Coventina steps closer, barely aware of what she was doing. "How many times?" she whispers. "How many times have I died?"

Antares let out a low, humorless laugh, tilting his head back against the couch. "Too many," he murmurs, voice velvet-soft, dangerous in its quiet devastation. "Every time, little déesse. Every fucking time."

Her heart clenches at the way he said it-like it destroyed him to admit it.

"And you... you remember all of it?"

Antares's lips curls into something almost mocking, almost cruel-but the sadness in his eyes betrayed him. "Every second."

She felt like the ground beneath her was crumbling, but she refuses to let it pull her under. She reaches for him, hesitating only a moment before her fingers brushea against his wrist. "And you've tried to stop it?"

That was the only thing she could hold onto now. That maybe, just maybe, they could change this.

Antares exhalsd, a slow, measured thing. "I have burned worlds for you," he said, voice rich with something lethal, something possessive. "I have carved through time itself, slit throats, torn apart realities-" His free hand flexes, as if remembering the blood he had spilled. "And still, I lose you."

Coventina's breath hitches. He had killed for her. He had bled for her. He had broken the very fabric of existence just to keep her alive.

And it hadn't been enough.

A lump forms in her throat, but she pushed past it. "But you're here now," she said, tightening her grip on his wrist. "And so am I."

Antares studies her for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then, finally, he let out a slow, quiet sigh and turned his hand over, allowing their fingers to tangle together.

"I know," he murmures.

His thumb brushes against her knuckles, a touch so achingly gentle it made her chest tighten.

Coventina had always been strong. She had always fought her own battles, never once thinking she needed someone to stand beside her. But as she stands there now, looking into the eyes of the man who had rewritten the universe for her, she realized something, she never unknowledge before.

She was his weakness.

And he was hers.

For so long, Coventina had run-from the unknown, from the weight of expectation, from the chains of destiny she never asked for. She had fought against things she couldn't see, resisted truths she hadn't yet understood, but now, standing here, with Antares's hand tangled in hers, something inside her finally clicked.

His love was hers. It had always been hers.

And she needed it.

Not just in the quiet way someone might crave warmth on a cold night, but in the way fire needed oxygen, in the way the stars needed the darkness to burn. His love had shaped him, twisted him, driven him to madness and devotion alike. He had killed for her. Had broken himself and the world over and over again just for the chance to keep her.

And she-

She had spent so long pretending she didn't want it. That she could exist outside of it. That the intensity of Antares Black's love was something she should despise.

But she didn't. Not anymore.

Coventina lifts their joined hands, pressing her fingers to his palm, tracing the lines there-lines that had held blades, had carved through enemies, had rewritten fate in her name.

"I'm here," she murmurs, voice softer now.

Antares inhales sharply, like her words alone had stolen the air from his lungs. His grip on her tightened-possessive, desperate, as if he thought she might disappear between his fingers.

"I know," he whispers. But it wasn't enough. Not for him.

And for the first time, Coventina understood.

She didn't want to run from his love. She wants to drown in it.

She had been denying herself the one thing that had always been constant-him. His love, his devotion, his violence and his unwavering gentleness. The parts of him that would set the world ablaze for her and the parts of him that would cradle her ashes in his hands, whispering her name like a prayer.

She deserved it.

She deserved him.

Coventina exhales, then lifts her other hand, pressing it to the side of his face. Antares tenses-only for a second-before leaning into the touch, his breath uneven, his lashes fluttering shut as if he were afraid to wake up and find this wasn't real.

Her thumb brushes against his cheekbone, and he let out a quiet, almost ragged sigh.

"I remember enough," he murmurs. "But not once... not once have you ever looked at me like this."

Her heart clenches.

She had spent so long denying this. Denying him.

Never again.

Coventina steps closer, their bodies almost flush now. "Then remember this," she said, voice steady, sure. "I'm not going anywhere."

Antares's eyes snapped open, and for the first time, there was something else in them-something beyond sadness, beyond longing.

Hope.

And just like that, she knew.

This time, they would win.

Fates be damned.

This time, she would be the one to rewrite their story. No fate, no prophecy, no cruel cycle would take Antares from her. If the world dared to stand between them, she would tear it down, brick by brick, with fire in her veins and his name on her lips. Let them try-let them think they could take him from her. She would raze destiny to the ground before she ever let that happen.