I swallow hard, remembering Damen's last words: You left me. Knowing he didn't underestimate me at all, he knew exactly which path I'd choose.

"And as for Ava." Roman smiles. "You'll be happy to know that I've done nothing with her. You should know by now that I only have eyes for you, " he murmurs, moving so fast I've barely had a chance to blink when his face is mere inches from mine. "Ava left on her own accord. Allowing us our privacy. And now that it's just a matter of—" He pauses to glance at his watch. "Well—seconds really, until you and I can make it official. You know, minus all the nasty guilt you would've felt had we hooked up sooner—before he'd had a chance to pass. Not that I would've felt guilty, but you strike me as the sort who likes to think of yourself as good and pure and well intentioned and all that rubbish, which, truth be told, really is a bit too maudlin for my tastes. But I'm sure we'll find a way to work through all that."

I tune out his words as I plan my next move. Trying to determine his weakness, his kryptonite, his most vulnerable chakra. Since he's blocking the very door I need to get through, the door that leads to Damen, I've no choice but to go through him. Though I need to be careful with how I proceed. Because when I do make a move, it needs to be swift, unexpected, right on target. Otherwise, I'm in for a battle I may never win.

He lifts his hand to my face and caresses my cheek, and I slap it so hard the crunch of his bones pierces the air as his crumpled fingers wobble and dangle before me.

"Ouch." He smiles, shaking his hand as he flexes his instantly healed digits. "You're a feisty one, aren't you? But you know how that only turns me on, right?" I roll my eyes, feeling his cold breath on my cheek as he says, "Why do you continue to fight me, Ever? Why do you push me away when I'm all you have left?"

"Why are you doing this?" I ask, my stomach twitching as his eyes darken and narrow, displaying a complete absence of color and light. "What did Damen ever do to you?"

He tilts his head back, peering at me when he says, "It's real simple, darlin'." His voice suddenly changing, dropping the British accent and adopting atone I've never heard from him before. "He killed Drina. So I'm killing him. And then everything's even. Case closed."

And the second he says it, I know. I know exactly how I'll take him down and get behind that door. Because along with the who and the how, I've now got the why. The elusive motive I've needed all this time. And now the only thing standing between Damen and me is one solid punch to Roman's navel chakra, or sacral center as it's sometimes called—the center of jealousy, envy, and the irrational desire to possess. One solid blow and Roman is history. But still, before I take him down, I've one more thing to do. So I look at him, my gaze fixed and unwavering when I say, "But Damen didn't kill Drina. I did."

"Nice try." He laughs. "Pathetic, a bit maudlin like I said, but I'm afraid it won't work. You can't save Damen that way."

"But why not? If you're so interested in justice, an eye for an eye and all that—then you should know that I'm the one who did it." I nod, my voice taking on new urgency and strength. "I'm the one who killed that, bitch." Watching as he sways, ever so slightly, but still enough for me to notice. "She was always hanging around, completely obsessed with Damen. You must've known that, right? That she was totally fixated on him?"

He winces. Neither confirming nor denying, but that wince is all I need to keep going, knowing I've hit the sore spot.

"She wanted me out of the way so she could have Damen to herself, and after months of my trying to ignore her and hoping she'd go away, she was dumb enough to show up at my house and try to confront me. And—well—when she refused to back down and went after me instead—I killed her." I shrug, relaying the story with a lot more calm than I felt at the time, making sure to leave out my own ineptitude, cluelessness, and fears. "And it was so easy. " I smile, shaking my head as though reliving the moment all over again. "Seriously. You should've seen her. It's like, one moment she was standing before me all flaming red hair and white skin—and the next—gone! And by the way, Damen didn't show up until the deed was already done. So, as you see, if anyone's guilty, it's me and not him."

My gaze is on his, my fists ready to strike, moving right into his space when I say, "So, what do you say? You still wanna date me? Or would you rather kill me instead? Either way, I'llunderstand." I place my hand on his chest and push him hard against the door. Thinking how easy it would be to just lower it a few inches, jab really hard, and be done with all this.

"You?" he says, the word more like a question, a crisis of conscience, than the accusation he meant it to be. "You and not Damen?"

I nod, my body tensed, poised for fight, knowing nothing will keep me from getting into that room, and raising my fist as he says, "It's not too late! We can still save him!" I freeze, my fist hovering at the halfway mark, unsure if I'm being played. Watching as he shakes his head, visibly distressed when he says, "I didn't know—I thought for sure it was him—he gave me everything—he gave me life—this life! And I thought for sure that he—" He moves around me and flees down the hall, calling, "You go check on him—I'll get the antidote!"