His body tensed.
“You love her. She is your family. How can you leave her?”
I searched his face, hoping, praying for a touch of hesitation, a sign that he wasn’t beyond saving.
“She should be your reason to live, Malik.”
A tortured, anguished look passed through Malik’s eyes.
Before I could stop myself, I placed my palm against his stubbled cheek—a quiet, instinctive act of comfort.
For a fleeting moment, he leaned into my touch. His hand covered mine, fingers pressing against my skin as if grounding himself. His eyes squeezed shut.
Then, suddenly, he tore away, wrenching himself free.
He started pacing, his movements restless, like a caged animal. “I’ve lived a long time—too long. I will do what I must.”
I turned to Roman, my vision blurred with unshed tears.
He shook his head slightly, his expression filled with helplessness. I didn’t know what to do either.
I swallowed hard. “Malik, I feel your pain after everything you’ve told us. You have love inside you. Even if you try to deny it.”
He paused, his broad shoulders tense.
I took a breath and forced myself to continue. “And when you told us how you once wanted to share love with both of us…” I hesitated, tucking my hair behind my ear. “Being a bisexual man through centuries of bigotry, of homophobia, of constant mistrust… That must have been unbearable. It must have been impossible ever to have your needs met.”
Malik turned toward me then. His expression—wounded, raw—was that of a lion with a thorn buried deep in his paw, one he refused to let anyone pull free.
I reached for his hands, taking them in mine.
“Look, Malik. We love you. That is not in question. And we don’t want to destroy what we have between us.”
My voice softened. “I want to continue loving you in whatever way we can. I don’t think you’ll object to that, Roman?”
I turned to look at my husband, hoping he would understand what I meant.
Tears spilled freely down Roman’s cheeks.
“I love you, too, Malik.” His voice was thick with emotion. “Just not in that way.”
Then, without hesitation, he stepped forward and clasped Malik’s shoulder.
I couldn’t hold back my emotions any longer, and before I knew it, I was sobbing.
“Thank you,” I choked out, my words thick with gratitude. “Thank you for taking care of me when I lost my child. For always watching over us. Maybe—because of you—we’re one step closer to destroying Balthazar.”
Malik’s expression remained still, unreadable, but I pressed on.
“Yes, you had Marcellious betray us, but look at what you did—you pulled all the threads together. Without you, we would be lost. We’re not just allies, Malik. We’re family.”
I took a trembling breath, clutching my chest. “Marcellious. Roman. Emily. Rosie. Me. And you. You can’t ask us to kill you. You just can’t.”
The tears came harder now. “I know now—not all darknesses are evil. You taught me that. You are good. A good, good person.”
I couldn’t hold back any longer. I lunged forward, throwing my arms around him, burying my face into his shoulder as I sobbed.
For a moment, Malik stood there, arms stiff, as if resisting the temptation to return the embrace.
