His fingers curl, causing the paper to crinkle in protest, his gaze lighting on mine, the weight of it causing me to suck in a lungful of air.

The first bell ringing, the sound of it sending all of our classmates into a flurry as they race toward the building, while Damen and I stay rooted in place. As much as I need to get to class and start making up for all the damage my extended absence has done, we need to finish this first. We need to reach some sort of conclusion, before I can go anywhere, do anything else.

“But I still cling to my belief that this life is cosmically wrong. And even if we take the antidote, something else will crop up to keep us apart. The only true way to achieve our destiny—to be together forever—is to reverse our immortality. To eat the fruit.” I gaze down at our feet, gaze at the dark shine of his car, gaze toward the soon-to-be-locked gate, hearing the final bell ring just as I gaze into his eyes.

“Damen, I have the means to do that now. I found the tree. It’s real.”

He doesn’t react, doesn’t move, doesn’t flinch.

“I journeyed there. Saw it for myself. I scaled its enormous trunk, swung from its mile-long branches—” I pause, wanting to ensure I have his full attention before I continue, “I picked its fruit.”

My gaze stays on his, but still nothing. No indication he’s heard.

“That’s why I was away for so long. It was a long, arduous, treacherous, lonely, scary, and yet completely wondrous journey. I passed through a rush of seasons to get there, made it through a winter so brutal I was sure I’d turn into a frozen-solid mass, got so rained on I was sure I’d never dry, and yet, even though I wasn’t always convinced I would make it, I did make it. I succeeded in what I set out to do.

And now I’m here to say that it’s not a myth like you think. In fact, it’s even better than the myth. Remember when Lotus said the tree was evergiving? She was right. The tree just keeps giving and giving and giving. There’s no truth to the one-fruit-every-thousand-years rumor. From what I experienced there are no shortages of any kind. There is only abundance. The Tree of Life is the very definition of abundance. And I brought back an entire bag full of its fruit with which to prove it.”

“You brought it back?” His face takes on an expression that’s impossible to read. “Why would you do that? Why wouldn’t you just hand it over to Lotus and let her handle it?”

“Because I’m taking over for Roman,” I say, nodding as I confirm it for myself. And now that I’ve said it, an entire plan begins to form in my head.

But Damen just looks at me, not comprehending.

“The party he throws every century and a half?” I suppress a smile, but I can’t seem to suppress my rising excitement. “This time I’m going to host it. I’m going to gather all of the immortals he’s made, and give them a choice between physical immortality—or real immortality.”

“And if they refuse you?” he asks, clearly convinced that they will since he pretty much has.

“Then they refuse me.” I shrug. “Though after I explain it to them, after they see the effects, I don’t think they will.”

Damen’s eyes widen, his face grows pale, ashen, and it takes me a moment to figure out why. He misread my words. Assumed I’ve already tried it.

“Did you—?” he starts, but I’m quick to wave it away.

“No.” I shake my head, as my eyes fix on his. “I wanted to wait for you. I want us to reverse our immortality together. I don’t know what I’ll do if you deny me—whether I’ll choose this life with you, or a mortal life on my own—I honestly don’t know. But I really hope you won’t make me choose. I hope you’ll think it over and share the fruit with me. It’s the only way we can have the future we want.”

I gaze at him, my eyes pleading with his. But finding only regret, I turn and head for the gate.

Chapter thirty-eight

I stand before the big iron gate Damen unlocked with his mind, watching as he beckons for me to join him on its other side. And as tempted as I am to do just that (and believe me, I’m extremely tempted) if I’m going to start living normally then I’m going to have to start here.

Now.

If I’m going to start living normally then I’ll have to stop relying on magick to free myself from all of my messes.

I shake my head, move past his bewildered gaze, and make my way toward the office, where I send the secretary into a complete frenzy of activity the second I approach her desk and say, “Hi. I’m Ever Bloom. I’m a senior here. And not only am I tardy, but I’ve pretty much skipped out on the last six months and I’m wondering how I might go about making that up.”

Her eyes grow wide as she looks me up and down, then she points toward a chair by the wall, tells me to sit, to not move an inch, while she turns, simultaneously reaching for her computer and the phone. The hand piece wedged between her shoulder and ear as her fingers pound hard on the keyboard, alerting the principal, the vice principal, my teachers, and Sabine, who was well aware of my plan and was waiting for this very call. The fate of my diploma being decided with little to no input from me, and when my previous suspension is mentioned, I’m sure that I’m doomed, but then luckily, thanks to Sabine’s finely honed negotiation skills they allow me to attempt what I’m sure they all consider to be the impossible: telling me that if I make up everything that I’ve missed—every single test—every last assignment—within the next two weeks, then they’ll let me graduate.