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Caligo remained silent.

I forced myself to look at him. His face revealed nothing, but the shadows surrounding him had gone unnaturally still. Not a single wisp drifted from his body.

“What do you want?” he asked.

It was the same question he’d asked me numerous times before, but it sounded different now. Heavier. More dangerous, perhaps, although that might have been my imagination dredging up Laura’s warnings.

What will he do if you reject him?

My mouth had gone dry. I ran my fingertip through the salt again. “I think it would be better if you left.”

The words fell between us with a weight that made my chest ache.

Caligo didn’t move. “For how long?”

I’d spent days trying to convince myself that I only needed space. That a week or two apart would somehow show me a way past all the obstacles. But giving him hope when I couldn’t see a future for us would be cruel.

“For good.”

The temperature in the room seemed to drop.

The shadows beneath his chair thickened, creeping outward across the kitchen floor. I stared at them, my pulse growing louder in my ears. I’d witnessed what happened when someone threatened me or made me unhappy. I’d watched him hold both the mugger and Tyler in the air as if they weighed nothing. I’d seen claws capable of tearing through flesh and shadows that could function as extra limbs.

He’d told me I belonged to him.

He’d never once suggested that belonging to him was something I could choose to stop doing.

“Are you frightened of me?” he asked.

“No.” The answer came too quickly.

“You are.”

“I’m frightened of how you might react,” I admitted. “That’s not the same thing.”

“To you rejecting me.”

I flinched at the word, even though that was precisely what I was doing. “Yes.”

The shadows spread another few inches. Every instinct told me to move away from them, but I stayed where I was.

Caligo followed my gaze to the floor. The darkness immediately retreated, sliding back beneath his chair.

“I wasn’t going to hurt you.”

“I know that.”

“No, you don’t. If you knew, your heart wouldn’t be beating so fast.”

He sounded hurt rather than angry, which somehow made everything worse.

“I’m sorry.”

“Do you think I would force you to keep me?”

“I don’t know.” There was no kindness in lying to him. “You followed me here without asking whether that’s what I wanted. You flat-out told me that I would never reject you. And you’re…” I gestured helplessly at him. “You’re possessive. Extremely possessive.”

“You said you liked that.”