“Is that really your take?” He leans toward me, his gaze so piercing it causes me to nod, gulp, scratch my arm. Indulging in all of my nervous tells, one after another, which leaves me wondering why I insisted on saying such a thing if it’s only going to result in my own discomfort. But seeing that discomfort, he’s quick to let it go, saying, “So, tell me—did you do it? Did you make it to the end of your journey? Did you find the tree you were looking for?”

“Yeah. I did,” I tell him, my voice growing hoarse as my mind fills with the whole glorious sight of it. A vision I want him to see too and there’s only one way to do that. “Close your eyes,” I say, humbled by the speed with which he obeys. “And now open your mind.” I place my hands on either side of his face, my palms spanning the sharp planes of his cheekbones that appear even more pronounced with his newly shorn hair, my fingertips seeking the slight inward curve of his temples and pressing lightly against them. Projecting the whole wonderfully radiant scene from my mind to his, showing him the tree exactly as I remember it, in all of its abundance and glory.

“Wow,” he says, his voice like a sigh. “That must’ve been… something.” He looks at me, gaze deeply probing.

I nod, start to remove my hands from his face, only to have him press his palms hard against them, holding me in place.

“I should go.” I try to pull away, only to have him hold me even tighter, keep me right there before him.

“Ever…” His voice is thick, ragged, a tone I know well.

My eyes graze over him, noting his freshly laundered T-shirt and jeans, the scent of soap, fresh air, and ocean that drifts from his skin—and I know the effort was made for Honor, not me.

“Jude, are you happy?” I ask, fervently hoping he is, that the night star I made granted my wish, or at least that it will soon.

He gives me a long look, one that lingers so long I’m sure he won’t answer when he finally drops his hands, shoves them deep into his pockets, and says, “I’m working on it.” He shrugs. “I think I’m getting closer. You?”

I start to shoot off some blithe and breezy reply, the kind you toss out when someone asks how you are but you know they’re not going to stick around for the answer, but then I stop just as quickly. Jude answered honestly, so the least I can do is answer honestly too.

Though it does take a moment to figure out just what that answer might be. I hadn’t really considered my own state of happiness—or at least not for a while anyway.

Let’s see, I passed every test on my journey and seized my destiny, which makes me completely self-actualized in the deepest sense of the word, and yet, even after all that, there’s one thing that’s still glaringly missing. Or, make that two things—one huge, one only slightly less huge. But after I leave here, I’ll face those things too.

“Same here,” I finally say. “I’m working on it too.” Chasing the words with a flash of a grin. “But I think I’m making good progress, getting pretty dang close, anyway.”

I start to turn, start to head for my car, when he pulls me back to him and says, “Hey, Ever—”

I face him.

“Just so you know, you’ve got it all wrong.”

I narrow my gaze, having no idea what he means.

“That really isn’t what I was doing all of those lives, or at least that’s only part of it. The other reason I was trying to keep you from Damen is because I wanted you all to myself. Still do.” He shrugs, tries to laugh, but it’s not the funny kind. It’s far too resigned for that.

“Remember what you told me—the first day we met?”

I squint. I said a lot of things back then. In fact, I gave him one heck of a palm reading, told him all about his past—or at least his most immediate past.

“You told me I have a serious history of falling for all the wrong girls.”

Oh yeah. That.

“Turns out you were right.” There’s that laugh again, but this time it’s lighter, brighter, hinting at a promise of better days to come.

“Little did you know it was just one girl in particular—one girl over and over again. Little did you know it was you.”

I gulp, my stomach going all twisty and weird.

“It’s always been you.” He shoots me a rueful grin.

I edge closer to my car, having no idea what to say, what to do, but that’s okay, because he cancels the awkwardness for me.

“So, what do you think of Honor?” he asks.

Our eyes meet and hold, until I manage to stammer, “For reals?”

He nods, swipes a hand over his head in the same way he used to back when his hair was long and twisty, only now there’s not much to latch onto and his arm falls back to his side. “What did you tell me back then? If I’m fool enough to ask, then you’re fool enough to tell?” He laughs, adding, “So yeah, what the heck? Have at it. What do you think of Honor? Or, better yet, what do you see for our future?

Do we even have a future?”

He offers his palm, wanting me to take it, to tell him all that I see. And I stand there before him, knowing all I have to do is lower my psychic shield, press my finger to his skin, and everything he wants to know, including stuff he most likely does not, will be revealed.

I inch toward him, just about to do it, when I remember what Damen once said, and decide to quote him instead.

“Life is not meant to be an open-book test,” I say, turning back toward my car and driving away.