CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

FROM THE HIGHEST of highs to the lowest of lows.

Twenty-four hours had passed with no signs of sickness. But as Torin had discovered a few days ago, he’d been wrong. Ridding himself of the wards hadn’t helped. Had merely delayed the inevitable. A wasting disease had struck Keeley, and struck hard. She slept, unable to be roused, unable to eat or drink, dying for lack of nourishment until Hades came to check on her and returned with the best immortal doctors.

Keeley was hooked to an IV and pumped full of medicines found only in other realms, but even still, her cheeks hollowed, her skin turned sallow and Torin...

Torin lost all hope.

He’d thought he’d figured everything out, thought he’d had the answer to happily ever after at long last. But he’d just been fooling himself.

Further, they couldn’t find Pandora’s box—he hadn’t forgotten the block Keeley encountered when she’d tried...twice—which meant they couldn’t find the Morning Star. He was out of options.

He and Keeley could continue on as before—his heart clenched—if she even survived this newest sickness. They could continue having sex with their clothes on, not daring to kiss, every caress measured, tentative, just in case the clothing had shifted, but that would not be enough. Would never be enough again. He’d had her. All of her. Nothing held back. That’s what he wanted for the rest of eternity; that’s what he needed.

What she needed. Whether she would admit it or not.

But neither of them could have it. And he was so damn tired of making mistakes. Of hoping, of trying, and then sitting front row for her suffering, knowing he was the one to blame. That if he’d only resisted, it wouldn’t have happened.

He’d told himself he would never again reject her, never put her through such a hurt, but he’d just been fooling himself about that, too. He had to leave her, and this time, he had to make her accept it. Make them both accept it.

Words wouldn’t be good enough. He had to do something permanent, something that couldn’t be undone. Something she would despise.

He studied her, how still she was lying on the bed, taking in air only because of a machine. The quiet hum of its motor filled his ears, obscene to him. Hating himself, he squared his shoulders, lifted his chin. He knew what he had to do.

* * *

“WE NEED TO TALK,” Torin said.

The expression on his face caused Keeley’s stomach to churn. The man before her looked cruel, uncaring, and wasn’t the lover of her dreams.

She’d just recovered from another disease. Had left her sickbed only this morning to shower and eat. This should be a time of celebration, not...whatever was to come. I can guess.

“All right.” She gulped. “Talk.” They were in their bedroom, alone. He leaned against the door, his hand on the knob, as if the desire to leave was stronger than the one to stay.

“We’re over,” he said.

Knew it!

“You will not change my mind, Keeley. Not this time.”

His words, stated so baldly, held an air of finality, but still she shook her head. “No.”

“I’m leaving and I won’t be back. You won’t flash me back, and you won’t flash to me.”

A warrior to her core, she planted her feet and prepared for battle. “You don’t like that I sickened again. I get it. But we’ve forged something sweet and rare and precious. Don’t give it up because you’re afraid.”

“Afraid,” he echoed, then laughed without humor. “Try terrified.”

“Torin—”

“I could lie and tell you that I don’t love you or that I’m attracted to someone else, like Cameo, or that I intend to take Hades up on his offer. You hate lies, and liars, and your hate would make this easier. But the truth is, I’m tired of making you ill. I’m tired of being the reason you suffer.”

“You...love me?”

“I do.”

“Torin—”

“But it’s not enough,” he said, and again, the finality of his tone scared her.

“It is enough! Together we can overcome anything.”

“We can’t. As we’ve proven.”

“We’ll find the box,” she said, desperation making her rash.

“Will we?” He shook his head. “No, I don’t think so.”

The moisture in her mouth dried. “You’re making a mistake.”

“No.” His small smile held only sadness. “For the first time, I’m doing what’s right. You wanted to be first in a man’s life, to be a treasure worth saving. Well, you are. I told you that. But it’s time I showed you, for actions are better than words. I’m going to save you—from me.”

She took a step toward him. He wasn’t as stoic as he appeared because he jolted back, slamming into the door. “Don’t.”

He’s right. Don’t beg. Never beg. “Please don’t do this,” she whispered anyway. There was no stopping the words. “We belong together. I love you. I love you so much and want forever with you. I don’t care what that forever entails.”

He blanched. “You don’t get it, Keeley. It’s already done.”

“No. I refuse to believe that.” Outside, rain began to pelt at the fortress walls. A boom of thunder. A fall of snow. Responding to me. Because her bond to Torin was in the process of breaking.

“I’m sorry.” He turned the knob.