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The thought made it hard to breathe. As if hurting him physically hurt me.

The light above flicked off. I cursed as the curtain moved, stepping deeper into the shadows to keep myself hidden.

Damn the Fates for their constant meddling. And damn me for letting them sink their claws in.

I turned and walked back toward my own building. Each step was harder than the last, as if the night itself wanted to drag me back to that window, to that light, to him.

No.

I shoved my hands into my pockets, both clenched tight, and picked up the pace. The cold air burned in my lungs. The bargain was struck. I would stay away. Ivan would live his life, find someone else, someone whole, someone who hadn’t sold pieces of himself to monsters in exchange for futures that weren’t his to bargain. Let him find real love and someone who could give him a home filled with happiness rather than nightmares.

By the time I reached my building, the sky had shifted toward the gray of false dawn. I paused at the door, one hand on the frame, and glanced toward the east, toward the apartment with the dark window, toward the boy sleeping inside. He’d be safer without me.

Gwen wasn’t wrong. But loneliness was hardly the worst burden I could bear.

I locked the door, sat down at my desk, and buried myself in work. If I stayed busy enough, maybe I wouldn’t feel a thing.

It was a lie.

But it would do.

EPILOGUE

JUDE

The apartment door opened onto chaos.

Green chaos, specifically. Vines crawled up the walls. Tiny leaves shimmered with emerald light. A massive tree, an actual tree, roots and all, stood in the corner of the living room, its branches brushing the ceiling. And underneath it, a mountain of presents wrapped in every color imaginable.

I blinked. Closed the door. Opened it again.

Nope. Still there.

“Angel,” I said slowly. “Are you seeing this?”

“Unfortunately.” He stepped past me into the apartment, his work bag still slung over his shoulder, and surveyed the damage. A vine curled around his ankle in greeting. He shook it off. “Ivan. Your plants are attacking us.”

“They aren’t,” he denied from somewhere off to the left.

“Ivan!” I called. “Get out here!”

A muffled thump from the direction of Ivan’s room, followed by the sound of bare feet on hardwood. Ivan appeared in the hallway, his hair a mess, his shirt covered in what looked like soil and glitter. He was grinning.

“You’re home!”

“We’re home,” I agreed. “What is this?”

“It’s the solstice!” He waved his arms at the apartment like a game show host revealing a prize. “Super cool, right? Beau helped.”

“Right,” Angel repeated. “There’s a live tree growing out of the floor.”

“An evergreen,” Ivan corrected. “For luck. And the vines are for protection. And the lights—” He snapped his fingers, and the tiny leaves pulsed brighter. “—are for joy.”

I stared at him. At the tree. At the mound of wrapped foil presents beneath it, unlike anything I’d ever seen outside of a holiday movie. “Uh…” We’d planned to do a small holiday celebration this year. It hadn’t included any of the traditional pomp and decoration.

Ivan’s shoulders slumped. “I thought we should have a big celebration this year. Grandpa’s settled in downstairs, and Nikki. And Wade across the hall. And we have our own space. And I thought…” He hesitated. “I thought we could be a family. Like in the movies.”

And for a moment, I saw the man he was becoming. Not the scared kid I’d rescued from our parents’ house. Not the runaway who’d tried to bargain with a death goddess. But someone who was slowly, painfully, beautifully growing up, making what he wanted and needed, known.