“But?”
“She got pregnant anyway.” His laugh is bitter. “We were so vigilant, but it happened. And four months later, she died. Just like all the others.”
I press my hand to my mouth. The viciousness of it. The cruelty.
“She was my last mate,” Kieran says quietly. “Eighty years ago. After she died, I swore I would never mark the next one. That I would stay away, keep my distance, refuse the bond entirely.”
“Why didn’t you ask a witch to figure out what was happening?” The question bursts out of me. “Why didn’t you try to break the pattern?”
“The gypsy witches retreated after Elara’s death. They went to one part of the territory and stayed there.” He turns to look at me. “I never approached them because I felt guilty. I felt like it was my fault that she died. It never occurred to me that it could be a curse. I simply thought…” He trails off.
“You thought what?”
“That it was our destiny.” His voice is hollow. “That we were meant to suffer.”
The revelation staggers me. All this time, all these lifetimes, and he just accepted it. Believed he deserved it.
“Destiny or curse,” I say firmly, “I won’t die.”
There’s a subtle change in his expression. “The gypsy witch I spoke with a couple weeks ago said they cast a curse upon the curse. And that the curse is weakening. But I don’t know what any of that means.”
I file away the fact that Kieran spoke with a gypsy witch recently. Later. I’ll ask about that later.
“I want to meet them,” I say. “As soon as possible.”
“I’ll arrange it.”
We remain in silence for a moment. The weight of everything he has told me presses down on my shoulders.
“What does this mean for us?” he asks quietly.
I look at him. Really look at him. At the pain etched into his face, the exhaustion, the fear he’s trying so hard to hide.
“I’m angry,” I admit. “I’m furious that this is happening. But it’s not your fault.”
“Daciana—”
“I won’t be a substitute for any of my past lives,” I interrupt. “I need you to understand that. I am Daciana. Not Elara. Not whoever came after her. Me.”
“I know.” He nods. “I know that.”
I sigh and cross the room to him. I take his hand, and he looks down at our joined fingers like he can’t quite believe I’m touching him willingly.
“I don’t want you to have to relive this nightmare again and again,” I say. “So together, we’re going to get to the bottom of it. We’re going to figure out who cursed us and why. And we’re going to end it.”
He searches my eyes. “You mean that?”
“I’m not going anywhere, Kieran.” The words surprise me even as I say them, but they feel true. Right. “Not without a fight.”
His hand tightens around mine, and for the first time since this whole situation began, I see something other than pain in his eyes.
I see hope.
Chapter Ten
Kieran
The afternoon sun filters through the canopy as I make my way into the woods, following the path I’ve walked twice before. The wolves know I’m coming—I can feel them tracking me through the trees, silent and watchful.
