"There's no point. I need to fetch my coat. We still have Morgana to roust. Unfortunately, I don't think I'm going to be much help." Bitterness flavored his words.
"Don't be a coward," she yelled. "Do you think I'm an idiot? You're afraid the demon will take you over and then you'll hurt either myself or Louisa."
"Yes!" he hissed, turning on his heel back toward her and bearing down on her. He flung one arm out wide. "I swore to protect you, and my daughter. I cannot do that when I'm the danger!"
"It can be managed," she began, in a more reasonable tone. "Drake knows a great deal—"
"You weren't there!" His lungs heaved with emotion, and Lucien raked a hand through his disheveled hair. Everything he'd fought so hard for in the past year... His sanity, his freedom, now this. Now her. The last sacrifice was almost too much to bear. "It nearly tore me apart, Ianthe! I couldn't stop it! I couldn't force its will to mine! And I tried." His voice broke. "I tried to stop it from killing those people, but I couldn't." He forced himself to harden. "I know better this time. I can't fight it if it chooses to try and take me."
"Then what are you going to do? Tuck tail and run? How far can you go, Lucien? Is there any place that's safe? A mountain top in the Andes? The Arctic? Where can you go that it cannot reach you?"
"I don't know, but I guess I can find out. I'll do this for you. I'll help you take down Morgana, but then we're finished."
Ianthe searched his eyes, shaking her head. "No." She reached for him, but he took a step away, and her hand curled into a fist, then dropped. "You said you would marry me."
"I'm sorry." This was the way it had to be.
They stared at each other, the clock in the hallway ticking out the seconds. A single tear slid down Ianthe's porcelain cheek, but her mouth had that defiant cast to it that he knew too well.
He couldn't stand it any longer. Taking a step back, he shoved his hands into his pockets. "I'll fetch my pistols. Send for—"
"No! I won't give in so easily! What I know is that you stood by me, regardless of my actions. You believed in me," she cried out, scurrying after him in a swish of skirts, "when I didn't even believe in myself. I cannot offer you any less, and now you know how it feels... to be afraid of yourself, to doubt yourself, and yet have someone stand here and challenge you to prevail." She stabbed a finger into his chest. "I took that step. I believed you, even when I doubted myself, because I couldn't live in fear anymore. This is your moment, Lucien. Your fear to conquer. And maybe it will happen, maybe we'll lose this fight. But maybe we won't..."
Maybe we won't... The dream of it ached, bitter and sharp, for that was all it was. A dream. He shook his head, turning away from her. "This is different. This threatens you all." His boot heels rang out on the marble tiles, but not hers. She wasn't following him. It ached, like a fist around his heart, but better that it end this way.
He wouldn't forgive himself if it ended with Ianthe hurt.
"I love you!"
Shock welled up through him. His feet wouldn't move, but his head turned, drawn inexorably toward her. "What?" The words felt like they were torn from him.
And there she was, standing at the end of the hallway, with her fists clenched and her pulse pounding in her throat. Stubborn, passionate Ianthe, with her heart on her sleeve. He could shatter it, for it was as fragile as glass, and then she'd let him go, and she'd be safe... But his own chest ached with longing. Something there would break along with hers.
Ianthe's expression turned stubborn. "I love you, you fool, and I will not let you go. I will not release you from this bond! If you won't fight with me, then I will fight for you. You need me." Her voice cracked. "And I need you."
"I can't." This was the only thing he couldn't fight against. For how long had he ached to hear those words?
"You don't know that," she shot back, taking a step toward him. "This is a knee-jerk reaction because you're scared, and I understand that." Stepping closer now, she reached up to cup his cheek. "Don't throw away everything we have, because of fear. We don't know that the demon can overtake you. It's been a year, Lucien. Why hasn't it tried? What is it waiting for? Don't you think it would have taken its shot while you were starved and tormented in Bedlam? Weak? And now you have me, and I am not going to share you with some creature from a hell dimension."
He turned his face away, but she didn't back down. Cupping his face in both hands, she forced him to meet her gaze. "I love you, you fool. And it scares the hell out of me, but I believe that together we can face just about anything this world can throw at us."
"Ianthe—"
Reaching up, she slid his arms around his neck. That warm body pressed against his, her cheek brushing against his jaw. He was smothered in a cloud of lilac perfume. Drenched in her heat and her touch, he had the feeling that he was no longer alone in this.
"We will do whatever needs to be done," she whispered as his arms hesitantly curled around her waist. "Of all of us, Drake knows the most about Greater Demons and their reach. He can look into whether this has ever happened before, but for now, you are safe. It cannot reach you, or touch you here, and if it does, then I'm your Anchor. I won't let it drag you under."
How insane, to think that but a few days ago they'd been at war. Lucien shut his eyes and buried his face in her hair. "You're a fool," he whispered gruffly. "You should be running from me and this bond. I–I will release you—"
"I don't wish it, and neither do you, if you would only stop and be honest with yourself for once."
Lucien buried his face in her hair and squeezed her tight, because, if he was being honest with himself, he did want her. And Louisa. Forever.
"Of course, you do," she retorted, and for some insane reason, he couldn't stop himself from laughing.
"You're insane," he rasped.
"Trust me. We can defeat this."
