Our Infinite Fates Summary, Characters and Themes

Our Infinite Fates by Laura Steven is a sweeping, character-driven novel that explores the endurance of love, grief, memory, and destiny through the lives of two cursed souls—Evelyn and Arden—who reincarnate across centuries only to meet the same tragic fate in every lifetime.  Framed around themes of identity, sacrifice, and survival, the novel unravels the complexities of relationships forged and fractured by time, revealing how history repeats itself until someone dares to break the cycle.

Grounded in emotional intensity and speculative storytelling, it invites readers to consider what remains when memory fades, and what is truly eternal.

Summary

The story begins with a shocking wedding scene where a bride murders her groom on a remote shoreline.  The man she kills is Arden, and the act is followed by a disturbing, supernatural transformation.

This sets the tone for a narrative that shifts across centuries, lifetimes, and identities, centering on Evelyn and Arden—two souls trapped in a curse that compels one to kill the other before their eighteenth birthday.

In the current timeline, Evelyn lives as Branwen Blythe, a teenager racing against time.  Her primary goal is to stay alive just long enough to donate life-saving stem cells to her younger sister, Gracie, who is battling leukemia.

But Branwen’s fate is haunted by a deeper curse: in every past life she remembers, Arden finds her, they fall in love, and he kills her.  This inevitable pattern of violence cloaked in love stretches across lifetimes—in Siberia, El Salvador, Nauru, and more—where each version of Arden either succumbs to the compulsion or is killed by Branwen in self-defense.

Despite carrying memories from several of these lives, Branwen lacks clarity about the origin of the curse or what ties her and Arden together.  She is left with symbols and fragments—ribbons, poems, and echoes of shared declarations: “I love you, and I have loved you, and I will love you.” These serve both as a source of comfort and a grim reminder of her destiny.

In her present-day life, Branwen’s fear sharpens into hypervigilance.  When she meets Ceri Hughes, a mysterious boy she suspects is Arden reincarnated, she reacts violently, attacking him outside a flower shop.

Later, Ceri appears at her workplace, flirts casually, and shows interest in a poetry collection called Ten Hundred Years of You—a book she suspects was written by Arden in a past life.  When he buys it, her suspicions deepen.

Branwen breaks into Ceri’s apartment and discovers an antique typewriter, a possible link to one of Arden’s former lives.  Unable to confront him directly, she turns to another boy, Dylan, a farmhand who has been close to her family.

Once suspected of being Arden, Dylan had seemed too warm and grounded to be dangerous.  But when Branwen invites Ceri on a date and knocks him unconscious, imprisoning him in a stable to keep him from killing her before the stem cell transplant, Dylan unexpectedly walks in—and reveals that he is, in fact, Arden.

This revelation shocks Branwen.  Dylan confesses that he hadn’t meant to get close to her family but was drawn in by Gracie’s warmth and innocence.

Though he still feels the pull of the curse, he agrees to delay killing Branwen for six days, allowing time for the transplant.  Branwen accepts, on the condition that she doesn’t run and stays by his side.

During this truce, memories from their past lives resurface.  In one, Branwen is branded a witch during a trial in Norway and chased by her mother and the community.

Arden, in that life, saves her.  In another, they find a moment of peace in a bathhouse in Constantinople.

These shared memories illustrate a love built on resilience and marred by betrayal, and they also hint that something darker lies behind the recurring pattern.

Branwen’s desperation grows.  She reunites with her old therapist, Dr.

Chiang, to secure Gracie’s transplant despite lacking insurance.  Initially hesitant, Dr. Chiang changes her mind and arranges the surgery through her wife, a surgeon, ensuring Branwen can donate before her birthday.  Branwen doesn’t tell the full truth about the metaphysical nature of her fears but emphasizes the urgency.

After the procedure, Branwen secretly records Arden admitting his intent to kill her.  She intends to use the recording to alert the police—after she has done what’s needed to save Gracie.

But the emotional toll of hiding the truth and constantly preparing for her own death is wearing her down.

Then comes a devastating revelation.  Branwen remembers another past life, where a close friend named Lalla—someone she loved like family—was also responsible for killing her.

This discovery reveals that her fate hasn’t been solely shaped by Arden.  The repeated betrayals, inflicted not just by a lover but by friends, compound her trauma and underline how pervasive the curse truly is.

Eventually, the truth emerges: Evelyn, in her first life, made a deal with a being called the Mother.  She became a reaper of souls, and Arden was the first person she ever reaped.

The cycle began from her own actions, though she had forgotten this origin.  Arden, filled with rage and grief across lifetimes, had been the victim of her initial deal, which was supposed to save someone she loved.

They both became trapped in a curse powered by suffering.

Now understanding the full scope of their condition, Evelyn and Arden develop a plan.  They decide to return to the Underrealm to confront the Mother and destroy her.

Their hope is that, just as Arden can kill Evelyn due to their soul-binding, Evelyn may be able to do the same to the Mother.  Evelyn wounds the Mother, but it’s not enough—she regenerates using Arden’s centuries of pain and their shared anguish.

The Mother offers them a deal: she will end the cycle if they allow her to consume their love, erasing their memories and severing their bond.  In doing so, they would save countless other souls from the same fate.

Faced with this choice, Evelyn agrees.  As their memories and love are drained, their sacrifice becomes overwhelming.

The purity of their love backfires on the Mother, destroying her and shattering the Underrealm.

In the aftermath, Evelyn and Arden perish, their lives and bond consumed—but their sacrifice ends the reaping cycle forever.  In an epilogue set in modern-day Edinburgh, a barista named León meets a red-haired stranger.

The moment their eyes meet, something ancient and familiar stirs.  Though they don’t remember their past, their souls recognize each other.

It’s a quiet but powerful suggestion that love, even when erased, leaves behind an echo that cannot be silenced.

Characters

Branwen Blythe (Evelyn)

Branwen Blythe, also known as Evelyn across her multiple lifetimes, is the emotional core of Our Infinite Fates.  Her character is shaped by centuries of trauma, longing, and resilience.

In her current life, Branwen exists in a heightened state of vigilance, acutely aware that she will likely die before her eighteenth birthday at the hands of someone she once loved in countless incarnations.  Yet, what distinguishes her is not just her fear but her defiance.

She clings to hope, not only to escape her own death but to save her younger sister, Gracie, whose leukemia makes her desperate to live long enough to donate stem cells.  Branwen’s character is a complex fusion of raw emotional vulnerability and strategic intelligence.

She manipulates systems, convinces a therapist to help her under false pretenses, and even goes so far as to kidnap a boy she believes is her fated killer.  Her paranoia is grounded in the pain of lifetimes filled with betrayal and bloodshed, and yet, she dares to love again.

The revelation that she is, in fact, the Devil—the original orchestrator of the cycle—adds another layer to her character: she is both victim and architect of her suffering.  Still, she ultimately chooses sacrifice, willingly giving up her eternal love to destroy the source of their torment, which underscores her moral depth and capacity for growth.

Arden (Dylan/Ceri/Mikha)

Arden is a deeply tormented figure whose many reincarnations are defined by his tragic role as Branwen’s killer.  Whether as Mikha in Siberia, a stranger in El Salvador, or Dylan in the present day, Arden grapples with an unbearable internal conflict: he loves Evelyn in every life, yet is fated to kill her before her eighteenth birthday.

His character embodies the agony of contradiction—protector and destroyer, lover and executioner.  In his Dylan incarnation, he hides in plain sight, developing genuine bonds with Branwen’s family, especially Gracie, complicating his mission and deepening his guilt.

His evolution from detached predator to emotionally shattered companion is at the heart of his arc.  In past lives, he sometimes succumbs to the curse quickly, but as the story progresses, he becomes increasingly humanized.

The truth that he was once the first soul Evelyn reaped after making a deal with the Mother makes his pain even more poignant—he is the living embodiment of a love ruined by a cosmic mistake.  Arden’s final act of choosing to stay by Branwen’s side despite knowing he must eventually kill her reveals his longing for redemption.

Even when faced with the opportunity to break free at the cost of their love, he does not resist Evelyn’s final decision, affirming his transformation from a bound servant of fate to a willing partner in sacrifice.

Gracie Blythe

Gracie, Branwen’s younger sister, is a beacon of innocence and vitality amidst a world of metaphysical dread.  Her presence provides Branwen with a tangible reason to resist death, grounding the narrative in familial love.

Though not aware of the supernatural layers of her sister’s life, Gracie’s battle with leukemia becomes a central motivating force for Branwen, imbuing the story with immediate emotional stakes.  Gracie is more than a plot device; she has her own charm and resilience.

Her warmth draws even Arden in his Dylan persona, causing him to delay fulfilling the curse.  Gracie represents the pure future that Branwen is fighting for—a life untouched by the violence of the past.

In many ways, she is a counterbalance to the existential weight of reincarnation, embodying the hope and simplicity that Branwen’s complicated love cannot provide.  Her medical needs catalyze the ethical dilemmas and desperate actions that push Branwen toward her final reckoning.

Ceri Hughes

Ceri is a red herring in the story’s unfolding mystery—initially perceived by Branwen as the reincarnated Arden, he becomes a figure of suspicion and misdirection.  Ceri’s calm demeanor, flirty attitude, and interest in the poetry book Ten Hundred Years of You play into Branwen’s belief that he is her past-life lover and potential murderer.

However, his character serves a deeper purpose: he illustrates how trauma can warp perception, and how memory, even when vivid, can betray.  Branwen’s decision to follow him, invade his privacy, and ultimately abduct him out of fear and desperation reveals as much about her unraveling psyche as it does about Ceri’s apparent innocence.

Ceri’s character reminds readers that in a story riddled with reincarnation and identity shifts, appearances are deceptive and assumptions often mask the truth.

Dr. Chiang

Dr. Chiang, Branwen’s long-trusted therapist, provides a moral anchor in a story filled with cosmic ambiguity.

Initially reluctant to help Branwen bypass the healthcare system for her sister’s treatment, she eventually relents, moved by Branwen’s desperation and her own wife’s willingness to operate.  Dr. Chiang is a rare adult figure who listens, validates, and ultimately acts in Branwen’s best interest—even without understanding the full scope of her client’s metaphysical truth.  Her evolution from cautious professional to compassionate accomplice highlights the thin line between ethical boundaries and human empathy.

Through Dr. Chiang, the story subtly critiques the limitations of institutional care while emphasizing the power of personal compassion.

Lalla

Lalla’s role, though limited in appearance, is monumental in emotional impact.  Revealed late in the narrative as a best friend from a past life who also contributed to Branwen’s repeated deaths, she introduces a devastating new facet to the theme of betrayal.

Unlike Arden, whose actions were coerced by a curse and complicated by love, Lalla’s betrayal is shocking in its intimacy.  Her confession reframes Branwen’s understanding of her own past, suggesting that fate’s cruelty is not only supernatural but also deeply human.

Lalla stands as a painful reminder that love and friendship can both heal and destroy, and that trust is often the first casualty in a world governed by secrets.

The Mother

The Mother is the central antagonist of Our Infinite Fates, an otherworldly being who thrives on the suffering and anguish of others.  Her deal with Evelyn—intended to save a life—sets the entire cycle of reaping and reincarnation into motion.

She is not just a villain, but a representation of cosmic exploitation, drawing strength from the most painful emotions in her victims.  Her power is not brute force but insidious emotional manipulation.

She offers Evelyn and Arden a choice that is no real choice at all: live free but loveless, or continue suffering in love.  In the end, it is her own miscalculation—underestimating the purity of Evelyn and Arden’s love—that leads to her destruction.

The Mother is a complex figure: a puppetmaster, a mirror of Evelyn’s own past misdeeds, and a symbol of systemic cruelty.  Her defeat signals the possibility of liberation not just for the protagonists, but for all the souls ensnared in her grim design.

Themes

Reincarnation and the Legacy of Memory

The cyclical structure of Our Infinite Fates is driven by reincarnation, positioning memory as both a gift and a curse.  Evelyn’s partial recollections from past lives place her in a perpetual state of alertness, anchoring her in experiences no one else can see or verify.

These fragmented memories serve as emotional residues, infusing her current life with déjà vu, dread, and longing.  Her awareness of prior betrayals and affections creates a destabilizing duality: she loves Arden and fears him, recognizes familiar places and people without context, and moves through life with the haunting knowledge that death is not final but recurring.

Arden, too, suffers under the weight of memory, albeit differently.  His recognition is more consistent, often burdened with guilt and resignation.

Together, their memories become a battleground—used as weapons, shields, and lifelines.  The past seeps into the present not as a lesson to learn from, but as an inheritance that dictates action, emotion, and even death.

The novel treats memory as sediment layered across time, obscuring as much as it reveals, making clear that remembering is not the same as understanding.  The lack of full clarity leaves them both floundering, trying to piece together truths in the dark.

In the end, memory is not only an emotional imprint but a structural force, guiding behavior and anchoring identity, even when facts are lost.  The ultimate irony is that even when their memories are stripped from them, some sense of recognition remains—implying that love and selfhood can survive beyond cognitive recall.

Fate, Choice, and the Myth of Predestination

Fate in Our Infinite Fates is not a passive background force but an active antagonist—embodied in the curse, in the character of the Mother, and in the rituals that govern Evelyn and Arden’s bond.  The story wrestles with the philosophical tension between destiny and agency.

The characters are locked into a cycle where each life culminates in tragedy, governed by metaphysical rules they did not consent to but must obey.  Arden’s compulsion to kill Evelyn is not presented as mere obedience but as a contractual consequence, rooted in a supernatural bargain that neither fully remembers nor understands.

Evelyn’s choices, on the other hand, reveal her resistance to the deterministic frame.  She plans, schemes, delays, manipulates, and bargains—constantly pushing against what’s “meant to be.

” Her insistence on staying alive to save Gracie embodies the human urge to reject fatalism, to carve out purpose even in the face of inevitability.  This tension reaches its climax when Evelyn is offered a cruel choice: preserve her love or destroy it to end the cycle.

That she chooses sacrifice reframes fate not as inescapable doom, but as a structure that can be dismantled through moral courage.  The novel insists that fate may write the rules, but it is love, agency, and sacrifice that rewrite the ending.

Through repeated lives and mounting pain, Evelyn and Arden assert that destiny is not absolute—it is subject to disruption by acts of will, no matter how fleeting or self-annihilating.

The Burden and Power of Love

Love in Our Infinite Fates is portrayed not as a soft sentiment, but as an elemental force—capable of salvation and destruction.  Evelyn and Arden’s bond is tested not only by time, but by violence, betrayal, and spiritual exhaustion.

Their love is complicated by its recurrence: they are not strangers discovering each other anew, but war-weary souls carrying centuries of emotional residue.  Arden has loved and killed Evelyn in countless lives; Evelyn has loved and tried to forgive him in equal measure.

Their love is laced with survivalism and suspicion, tenderness and terror.  What emerges is a portrait of love that resists purity: it is flawed, compromised, and still incredibly potent.

The novel elevates love to the level of cosmic currency—its purity fuels power, as demonstrated when the Mother is destroyed by consuming Evelyn and Arden’s love.  In this framework, love becomes the final weapon, one that outlasts curses, gods, and memory.

Even after they die and forget each other, their final reincarnated selves—León and the red-haired stranger—recognize one another, drawn by a love that transcends the cognitive.  The book thus posits that love is not a feeling but a metaphysical truth, etched into the soul.

While love in this story is anything but romanticized—it’s traumatic, coercive, and often unbearable—it is also the only thing with the power to break the cycle, destroy the antagonist, and offer rebirth.

Sacrifice and Moral Reckoning

The narrative arc of Our Infinite Fates builds steadily toward ethical confrontation.  Evelyn’s decisions are never made in a vacuum—they are always tethered to someone else’s survival, primarily her sister Gracie’s.

Her own life is not just hers to lose; it is the key to someone else’s continued existence.  Arden’s struggle mirrors this, as he is locked into a system where murder is mandatory.

Their emotional conflict is thus not about love alone, but about responsibility.  What is one soul worth?

What does it mean to let someone die for the greater good—or to kill them because you’ve been told you must?  Evelyn’s choices, especially her final one to let go of love itself, are profound not just in their consequence but in their moral clarity.

She acts not out of despair, but out of a conviction that her love, if weaponized correctly, can dismantle the very architecture of suffering.  This is sacrifice not as martyrdom, but as resistance.

The story repeatedly asks its characters to weigh personal attachment against larger cosmic stakes.  Dr.

Chiang’s decision to help Branwen illegally, Arden’s hesitations, and even Lalla’s betrayal each serve as different illustrations of moral calculus in impossible situations.  Ultimately, the book presents sacrifice as both tragic and redemptive.

It demands a painful accounting of one’s actions across lifetimes and suggests that the most meaningful change often comes at the highest cost.

Identity, Guilt, and the Self Across Lifetimes

Our Infinite Fates treats identity as fluid, shaped as much by accumulated choices as by forgotten ones.  Evelyn’s discovery that she is not merely cursed, but the original architect of the curse—the Devil herself—reconfigures the emotional stakes entirely.

The victim becomes the originator, and the guilt of that revelation threatens to obliterate her sense of self.  She must now navigate not only betrayal and trauma, but accountability.

Arden, too, transforms in this light.  He is no longer simply the tragic lover or unwilling executioner, but the first soul Evelyn took, the first casualty in a long line of grief.

The novel interrogates whether guilt is a static attribute or something that evolves with understanding.  Evelyn’s self-awareness across lives fragments her identity; she is Branwen, she is Evelyn, she is the Devil, she is a sister, a lover, a killer.

But she is also the girl in the café in Edinburgh, reawakening to life.  The multiplicity of her roles underlines the book’s thesis: the self is never fixed, and it is shaped as much by amnesia as by memory.

Guilt does not nullify her capacity for love, and identity is not bound by past sins.  The story allows its characters to be contradictory, to change across lives, and to be haunted without being defined by those hauntings.

In doing so, it presents a nuanced portrait of identity that honors both continuity and transformation.