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Instead of the mocking theatrics I’d come to expect, I was met with a tenderness I’d never seen from him.

“You’re a fool, Evelyn Graymore.” He paused, tilting my head up to meet his gaze. “And you deserve so much fucking more,” he whispered, his hand gently tucking a floating whisp of hair behind my ear.

I held his gaze. His golden eyes blazed back at me, void of venom or mockery.

Layne stood, his frame blocking out the moonlight that filtered down through the water’s surface.

“The curse has already started to take hold of him.” He gave me a sidelong glance, nodding towards the surface. “You’ve seen that from tonight.”

I turned my eyes down, dragging my finger through the silt of the seafloor in aimless patterns. “Yes,” I whispered, the guilt gnawing at me.

Layne sighed, shaking his head. “The nightmares, the hallucinations⁠—”

“The golden eyes,” I finished, my voice barely a whisper.

Layne’s expression flickered. “Yes. All of it is the curse’s manifestation. The stronger your feelings are for each other, the more it will consume him.” He tilted his head, studying me. “Whether you want to or not—you’re killing him, Evelyn.”

There it is.

That truth was a gut punch, stealing the air from my lungs and twisting my stomach. Hearing it out loud from Layne only made it more real.

Undeniable.

“I had to use my golden song on him tonight.” It pained me to admit it after promising myself I would never use it on him again. “I was trying to save him…I didn't know what to do.” A lump caught in my throat, but I swallowed it down, despite the jagged pain.

Layne's shadows pulsed around him. “You did what was necessary. That doesn't make you a monster.”

Jolting up, I faced him, my voice sharp. “But I am, Layne! That’s exactly what I am now…” I leaned in, my face inches from his. “But I’m not afraid of being a monster anymore, don’t you see? Those men that I hunt? They deserve it. But Ethan, he⁠—”

Layne's gaze flicked down and away. “I didn't make you choose this, Evelyn.” His voice was low. “I gave you a choice. You chose to survive.” His eyes darted back to me. “This is who you are now. The question is what you do with it. What is it you want, Evelyn Graymore?”

I pondered on his question, something I’d never quite had an answer for.

I don't know what the fuck to do anymore, I thought.

Pulling back, my gaze drifted to the floor. As much as I wanted to hate him. Blame him. He was right—I did choose this.

Layne's expression softened. “I’ve seen things, Evelyn. Real monsters. People writhing in the depths of darkness, trapped long enough that they'd do anything to escape it.” His thumb brushed across my cheek, his expression softening. “You’re not anything like them.” He paused. “Not yet, at least.”

Not yet.

The words dug the knife deeper.

Layne’s gaze drifted out into the darkness. “The longer this continues, the worse it gets. Ethan’s body and mind are fracturing, and it's only a matter of time before the curse devours him.” He paused, looking intently at me. “It will only get worse from here, Evelyn, especially if you allow your feelings to continue to grow.”

I pressed my eyes shut, only to be met with Ethan’s face staring back at me. His beautiful face, full of hope, slowly draining out of him as he stood alone on the pier.

Getting on that yacht with Ethan wasn't an option. I knew that now, more than ever.

My eyes snapped open.

The yacht.

I’d been so busy stewing in my guilt that I’d almost forgotten. “He invited me to a party,” I said, my words rushed, “Preston’s yacht.”

Layne stilled. His eyes beamed and darkened all at once. “The same yacht he⁠—”

“Yes,” I said, cutting him off.