I stare at his back, the solid square of his shoulders—his lean, muscled form. Remembering how he acted so strangely, so formal, and thinking how it all makes perfect sense.

“The moment I saw his eyes, I knew.” He turns, his gaze meeting mine. “So tell me, Ever, tell me the truth, was it not the same way with you?”

I swallow hard, wanting to look away, but knowing I can’t. He’ll misread it, assume I’m holding back. Remembering the moment Jude caught me alone in his store, the way my heart raced, my cheeks flushed, along with the odd, nervous dance in my gut. One moment I was fine and the next—a mess. And all because Jude’s deep sea green eyes met mine...

It couldn’t mean—

Couldn’t possibly—

Could it?

I rise from the couch, moving toward him ’til our bodies are mere inches apart. Wanting to assure him, assure me. Find a way to prove that none of it meant anything.

But this is Summerland. And thoughts are energy. And I’m afraid he just witnessed mine.

“It’s not your fault,” he says, voice hoarse, rough. “Please don’t feel bad.”

I shove my hands in my pockets, pushing as deep as they’ll go, determined to steady myself in a world that’s no longer stable.

“I want you to know how sorry I am. And yet—” He shakes his head. “Sorry just doesn’t cut it. It’s woefully inadequate, and you deserve better than that. I’m afraid the only thing I can do now—the only thing that’ll make things right, is to—”

His voice breaks, prompting me to lift my face until it’s even with his. The two of us standing so close the slightest move forward could easily bridge the gap.

But just as I’m about to make the leap, he backs away, gaze steady, features drawn tight, determined to be heard when he says, “I’m stepping aside. It’s the only thing I can do at this point. From this moment on, I will no longer interfere with your fate. From this point on, every move toward your destiny is yours and yours alone to make.”

My vision goes blurry, throat hot and tight. Surely he can’t mean what I think?

Can he?

Gazing upon him as he stands before me, my perfect soul mate, the love of my lives, the one person I was sure was my shelter now leaving my side.

“I’ve no right to barge into your life in the way that I have. Never giving you the chance to choose for yourself. And you know what the worst part is?” He looks at me, eyes filled with such self-loathing I’m pressed to look away. “I wasn’t even noble enough, wasn’t even man enough, to play fair.” He shakes his head. “I used every trick in the book, all the powers at my disposal to annihilate the competition. And while I’ve no way to change the past four hundred years—nor the immortality I’ve forced upon you—I’m hoping that now—by stepping aside—I’ll allow you some smidgen of freedom in allowing you to choose.”

“Between you and Jude?” I gape, voice rising to the point of hysteria, wanting him to say it. Just say it. Quit dancing around it and get to the point.

But he just continues to stand there, world-weary gaze focused on mine.

“Well, there is no choice! No choice at all! Jude is my boss—he’s not the least bit interested in me—or I in him!”

“Then you fail to see what I see,” Damen says, as though it’s a fact—some large, solid object parked right before me.

“That’s because there’s nothing to see. Don’t you get it? All I see is you!” I gaze at him, vision blurry, hands shaky, feeling so awful and empty as though each breath just might be my last.

But as soon as I’ve said it, Damen highlights the painting again. Causing it to glow in a way that can’t be ignored. But even though he thinks it’s significant, that girl is a stranger to me. My soul may have once occupied her body, but it’s no longer home.

I start to speak, wanting to explain that, but no words will come. Only a long piercing wail that courses from my mind to his. A sound that means please and don’t—a sound without end.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he says, immune to my plea. “I’ll always be close, somewhere nearby. Able to sense you, keeping you safe. But as for the rest—” He shakes his head, voice defeated, sad, but determined to be heard. “I’m afraid I can no longer—I’m afraid I’ll have to—”

But I won’t let him finish, can’t let him finish, cutting right in when I cry, “I’ve already tried a life without you, when I went back in time, and guess what? Fate sent me right back!” Gaze blurred by tears, but I don’t turn away. I want him to see it. Want him to know exactly what his misguided altruism is costing me.

“But, Ever, that doesn’t mean you were meant to be with me, maybe you were sent back to find Jude, and now that you have—”

“Fine,” I say, refusing to let him finish, not when I have plenty more evidence proving my case. “Then what about the time you held your hand close, making me focus on our tingle and heat, claiming that’s exactly how it feels between soul mates? What about that? Did you not mean it? Are you taking it back?”

“Ever—” He shakes his head and rubs his eyes. “Ever, I—”

“Don’t you get it?” I shake my head, sensing his energy, knowing it won’t make the least bit of difference but continuing anyway. “Don’t you see that I only want you?”