Julian chose someone else. Chose her over me, over the life we’d planned, over promises that turned out to mean nothing.
Grandma Jo left me, though that one wasn’t her choice. Cancer didn’t care about timing or fairness or the fact that she was the only person who’d ever made me feel like I belonged somewhere.
And now Kaelren. Not leaving by choice either, but leaving all the same. The universe apparently had a sick sense of humor about giving me people just long enough to need them before ripping them away.
“Elle?” His voice was concerned. “Your marks are flaring.”
I realized my hands had clenched into fists, flowers blooming aggressively from my knuckles—thorned things with petals like knives.
“I’m fine.”
“You’re lying.”
“I’m—” My voice cracked. “I just got you. I finally have something that feels real, that feels like mine, and you’re already telling me I’m going to lose you.”
He turned me to face him, his hands cupping my face with a gentleness that made my throat tight. “You’re not losing me. Not while I’m still here. Not while I can still choose to be yours.”
“But after—”
“After doesn’t matter.” His thumbs brushed away tears I hadn’t realized were falling. “Listen to me. I have lived more years than you can imagine, and I have never—” He pressed his forehead to mine. “I have never felt this. Never wanted someone to survive more than I wanted my own survival. Whatever time we have, it’s more than I thought I’d ever get.”
“That’s not fair.”
“None of this is fair.” He kissed me, soft and fierce all at once. “But I’m done pretending I don’t want every moment I can steal with you. Even if it’s not enough. Even if it ends badly. I’m choosing this. I’m choosing you.”
I kissed him back, tasting salt and chocolate and the bittersweet knowledge that our time was borrowed. Part of me wanted to pull away, to protect myself from the inevitable grief. But I’d spent my whole life trying to protect myself from loss, and it had never worked. People left anyway.
At least this time, I’d know what I had before it was gone.
“Okay,” I whispered against his mouth. “Okay. We’ll take what we can get.”
“That’s all anyone gets, really. The rest is just an illusion of control.”
“You’re terrible at reassurance.”
“I’ve been told.” He smiled, and it was real despite everything. “But I’m excellent at making the most of borrowed time.”
“Prove it.”
So he did.
We returned to the main Thornwood compound looking thoroughly debauched despite our best efforts. My hair, even wet, still had flowers blooming in it—softer ones now, pink and gold instead of thorned. Kaelren’s marks were more prominent than usual, pulsing contentedly. And neither of us could stop the occasional touch—his hand at my lower back, my fingers brushing his arm.
The physical contact felt like a promise. Or maybe a prayer.Please let this last. Please let him survive. Please, for once, let me keep something good.
Peeble was waiting on the balcony of our chambers, sitting next to Kevin the bee and looking extremely pleased with themselves.
“Have a nice trip?” they asked innocently.
“You’re the worst,” I said without heat.
“I’m the best. You’ll realize that when you name your first child after me. Little Peeble Junior, or maybe Peeblina if it’s a girl—”
“Never happening.”
“We’ll see. I’m very good at long-term manipulation.” They paused, then added more seriously, “You two look happy. For once. It’s gross, but also kind of nice.”
“Thanks, Peeble,” Kaelren said, surprising us both.
