“Family’s the only thing that ever meant anything to me,” she says, pulling me back into their circle. “And now that you’ve returned, I have everything. I have all that I need.”

Chapter thirty-seven

I had every intention of heading to Damen’s.

I had every intention of saying good night to Sabine and Munoz and heading right over there.

Only it didn’t quite go as planned.

Sabine and I stayed up late. Like, way late. Like, well past the time Munoz bid us good night and headed back to his place.

The two of us hanging on the couch until the wee hours of the morning, picking at a box of leftover pizza (yes, I had a piece, or two, and I could hardly believe what I’d been missing all this time!), while getting ourselves all caught up on each other’s news—and the next thing I knew there were only a few hours left until I had to be at school.

According to Munoz, I absolutely, positively, had no choice whatsoever but to show up at school and either work some serious manifesting magick in the administrator’s office, or put in a superhuman effort at making up all that I missed, or both, if I had any hopes at all of graduating with my class.

So, instead of going to Damen’s, I chose to grab a few hours of much-needed sleep in my old room, wanting to be fully rested and recharged when I dropped by his house, since I didn’t know how he’d react upon seeing me again, fruit at the ready. But I knew I’d need to bring my A-game.

The second I spy his black BMW in the student lot, I realize I won’t have to wait all that long. Apparently he’s still showing up every day, attending his classes, going through the much-dreaded motions, even though, for the life of me, I can’t imagine why.

“Because I made you a promise,” he says, answering the question in my mind when he appears by my side. Holding my door open, waiting for me to climb out and join him, but for the moment anyway, I remain frozen in place.

My eyes travel over him, savoring the look of him, the feel of his presence next to mine, while the deep, aching pang in my gut reminds me of just how much I’ve missed being with him.

Despite the thrill of my recent accomplishments—despite the triumph of seizing my destiny—without Damen by my side, it all dims—it all feels so hollow and empty.

“I searched for you.” His eyes pore over me, thirsty, drinking me in—telling me he missed me as much as I missed him. “Searched all over Summerland. And though I was unable to find you, I could still sense you. That’s how I knew you were okay. Far away—in a place I couldn’t fathom—but still okay. And it’s that comfort that kept me going, waiting for the day when you’d find your way back to me.”

I swallow hard, swallow past the huge lump that’s now lodged in my throat. Knowing I should say something, anything, but I can’t.

Staring at him is pretty much all that I’m capable of.

“So, when’d you get back?” His gaze remains steady, and though he strives to maintain a calm, casual vibe, I’m afraid the way I react is pretty much the opposite.

His question sets me in motion—horrible, nervous-making motion. Grabbing my bag, fooling with my hair, scratching my arm, and shifting in my seat until I finally maneuver past the offer of his hand and haul myself out of my car. My eyes darting crazily, searching for a safe place to land, which ends up being pretty much anywhere and everywhere but him.

My breath coming ragged, too fast, when I say, “Yesterday.” A truth so horrible I can’t help but cringe.

Knowing exactly how he chooses to interpret it—the only way it can be interpreted. And as much as I’d love to deny it, I can’t. There’s just no getting around the fact that I’ve been back from my journey for an entire day and yet I never found the time to see him until he just now approached me.

No way to get around the fact that I put other people before him.

A whole host of other people, including Jude.

Damen stands by my car, carefully weighing that one single word until it becomes permanent, irreversible, like an accidental footprint left in a square of fresh cement I make no attempt to smooth over, no attempt to erase its permanent imprint.

And even though I know I need to say something, I have no idea what that something might be.

He looks at me, clearly torn between feeling even more hurt and even more confused, and settling on somewhere in the middle.

“I was afraid to see you,” I tell him. “Mostly because I don’t want to fight with you again. I can’t bear to fight with you again. And yet, I think we both know that’s exactly where this is headed. But before we get there, I need you to know that just because I delayed this moment doesn’t mean I didn’t miss you—” My voice cracks, becoming so choked up I’m forced to clear my throat a few times before I continue. “Please, don’t ever think I didn’t miss you.” My gaze grows watery, bleary, pleading with his.

But instead of admitting he missed me too, instead of moving to comfort me like I’d hoped, he says, “Why is it you think an argument is so inevitable?”

His dark eyes graze over me, widening in shocked disbelief when I reach into my bag, find the package Honor gave me, and hand it over to him, saying, “Because of this.”

He studies the small, plain-wrapped parcel, examining it as he flips it back and forth in his hands.

“It’s the herb.” I look at him. “It’s the hard-to-find, special-order, rare herb that you need to finish your antidote. The antidote that will allow us to be together in the way that we want, so we can continue our lives as immortals.”