“Now I wish I had thought of looking it up.”

“Wouldn’t have done you any good, anyway. Googling Le Chateau de la Mort wouldn’t have led you to Elysium.”

I wrapped one arm along his back, curving it around to sit on his waist. “Hey, David?”

“Yes, my love.”

Those two last words ‘my love’ simmered through me like milky calm. “I'm sorry—about the fight we had the day I left for the mano—”

“Ara.” He turned me to face him. “It’s in the past, sweetheart. And it is I who should be sorry. Not you. I took my stress out on you. I should not have behaved that way.”

“Well, if you’re not mad at me, why haven’t you been taking my calls?”

He looked out the window again, his head moving slowly. “Can you…just this once, and I’ll never ask it of you again, can you just take my word that I wanted to, but had reasons why I didn't? And they were not because I don't love you, or because I don't care about you.”

“If you cared about me, you wouldn’t have left me so long without any contact.”

He sighed, tucking me into his chest. “There are reasons for everything I do, Ara. One day, you will understand.”

“Why not just tell me now?”

“Because I shouldn’t even be here. My mere presence is risking everything that's already been….” He bit his teeth together. “Look, just be okay without me for a little longer. Please?”

“Okay,” I said, sighing, then glanced up to his stern face. “So…you're not worried about Mike and the spirit bind, anymore?”

“No. Morgaine told me it’s faded. Is that true?”

“Mostly.” I nodded. “I still love him, but I think I can distinguish the two kinds of love now.”

His lips broke apart with a breath of laughter. “I'm very happy to hear that. And, has he stopped calling you ‘baby’?”

“No. Did you ask him to?”

He groaned. “Ask—demand. Same things, really.”

I smiled to myself. “Well, he still calls me baby, but he doesn't mean anything by it.”

“That’s not the point.”

“Then what is?” I said harshly. “He’s had your back, you know? He always stands up for you—the baby thing isn't intentionally disrespectful.”

“I know.” He nodded, running a hand through his dark, wavy hair. “And he’s been keeping me sane when it comes to you. Ha! I almost ruined it all the other day, when you fell over at training and hurt your ankle.”

“Yeah, I remember.” My cheeks flushed with humiliation. “You saw that?”

He smiled. “Mike spotted me outside—managed to make me leave right before Blade carried you out.”

My gut sunk; he was right there. Right outside, and I didn't see him. “I can't keep this up much longer, David.”

“Nor can I, sweetheart.” He held me into his chest and kissed the top of my head; I could feel the warmth of his breath and smell the way his orange-chocolate scent mixed with the heat, making me feel as if I was wrapped up tightly in naked-him. “I better get going.”

“Wait.” I grabbed his sleeve as he pulled away. “Not yet.”

“Ara, Blade’s on guard tonight, and he may not be immortal yet, but if he hears me in here—”

“Please. Just lay with me for a bit? Help me get to sleep.”

He looked at the bed, then the rising day outside, and sighed. “Okay. Just for a while.”

“Yay!” I clapped, and I didn’t even feel silly for my immature display of excitement. But the sudden jumping made that dull ache I’d come to know so well sear up on the side of my head; I cupped my hand over it, wincing.

“What’s wrong?” David pulled my hand down, looking at the spot I covered.

“It’s the headache. Every time Mike makes me use my electricity, I get them really bad.”

“Why?”

“I don't know. He seems to think it’ll pass when I'm fully transformed.”

David nodded as he pulled me into his chest again. “I'm sorry, Ara. I never wanted this life for you.”

“It was never your choice to make.”

“It was, once—before I gave you my blood.”

With a sigh, I shook my head. “Even if I was given a crystal ball back then, and saw our future—all the bad we’ve been through, I’d still take it, David, for all the good.”

He leaned in slowly, holding the tops of both my arms, and kissed my forehead. “And that is one of the reasons I love you so much.”

“I love you, too.” I smiled, both inside and out, because I meant it. Despite everything I’d learned about him, I still meant it. “David?”

“Mm?”

“I need to tell you something.”

He leaned back a little, a guarded smile on his lips. “Why don't I like the sound of this?”

“I—” I walked away and hugged myself across the room. “Morgaine said you saw a dream I had—about when you and Jason were young.”

“Yes.”

“Well—that wasn’t the only one I had.”

He sighed. “I thought as much.”

“Are you mad at m—” I stopped when I spun around, expecting him to be across the room, angry and scowling, not right behind me, smiling. “What?”

“I love you, okay.” He stroked one finger down my cheek. “You worry too much. I knew you were having dreams. I knew he showed you our childhood, because you’ve slipped up, said things so many times that you couldn’t have known.”

“Why didn't you tell me you knew?”

He smiled as if the answer were obvious. “I wanted you to tell me.”

“Oh.” I became smaller, looking at his shiny black shoes.

“But you did tell me.” He moved in and kissed my hair. “So, it’s okay. And I can't be mad at you for things he showed you while you slept.”

“Aren’t you mad that I didn’t tell you?”

“I was. But I got over it. Missing you has a way of putting things into perspective for me.” He rubbed the tops of my arms. “Just…don't ever keep secrets from me again.”

“Okay.” I shuffled my feet closer to his and turned my head as I rested my ear against his shirt.

“But…that was all, right?” David asked. “He only showed you our past? He didn't…you didn't…do anything else, did you?”

I looked up at him, eyes of fear mixing with eyes of concern. “No.” With that lie, the glass of my broken promise shattered on the ground around my feet, and I heard it, felt it, but didn't regret it. They were dreams. They were in the past. They had to stay in the past—not destroy our future.

“Okay.” He exhaled relief. “I guess I kind of knew that. It’s not like I thought anything happened, but I just…”

“You were just worried.” I wrapped my arms around his waist.

“I just had this feeling, you know, that something was going on. And, I know that’s not the case, but I just…I don't know. Perhaps it’s because I know how much he wanted to hurt me, and the one way to do that—”

“It’s in the past,” I cut him off. “He’s gone now, and he can never hurt us again.”

“And you think that makes me feel better?” He turned away, breaking our embrace.

“Oh, David. I'm sorry.”

“I hate myself, Ara.” He glanced back at me for a second before returning his gaze to the waning night below the window. “I never understood before, exactly what I’d done to him. I blamed him for so many things, and I let my anger turn to hatred.” He took a breath through his nose, his shoulders lifting slowly. “The worst part is, I knew the truth. I knew it was never his fault—the things I blamed him for, but somehow, placing it all on him made it easier to bear the grief. And I never got to make amends for that.” He stared out past the glass, talking as if I wasn’t in the room. “He deserved that much. What he did to you—to us—was horrible, but it truly was all my fault.”

I walked very slowly over to him and let my fingertips hover above his shoulder blade before touching him. “I'm sorry, David.”

“Don't be sorry, Ara.” He shook his head a few times, biting his lip. “Just…you don't have to be sorry for anything.”

“I could’ve stopped him—from killing himself.” I stared out at the place David stared for so long, hoping to find the resolution he was looking for too. But there was none there. “I could’ve taken the vial and snapped it.”

“But you didn't know then.” David reached down and took my hand, keeping them between us. “You hated him—thought he wanted to kill you. Don't feel regret for that, Ara. He wanted to die. It was his choice.”

“Yeah, because of what he did to me.”

David opened his mouth to speak, his thoughts seeming to change direction instead. “I'm not sure his death was for that reason. He was a smart kid, Ara, and he would’ve known, only too well, that you’d forgive him when you found out the truth about why he tortured you.”

“Do you think?”

He nodded. “I know. I’ll bet that’s why he left you those memories—with the blocks in place—so they’d come out one by one, when he wanted you to see them.”

“So I could empathise with him?”

David shrugged one shoulder. “Maybe.”

I nodded, my eyes tracing the white oak divide of each French pane. “He showed me Arietta. I saw her face, heard her voice.”

My fingers pulsed where David's tightened around mine.

“She was very beautiful,” I said.

A distant smile rested on his lips. “And she loved Jason.”

“More than you?”

“Sometimes…it felt that way.”

“Maybe she was just making up for the love Jason never got from you—or from your father?”

“He did love us, you know. He wasn’t all bad.”

“He did?”

“Mm.” He nodded, his lips pursed. “And that's why it was so confusing. When we were babies, he fathered us the way he should. But, as the pain of losing my mother wore his soul down, he drank more, and his love became subjective to his sobriety.” The very depth of his tone sent a message into the air, that he felt it—that he still carried so much of that confusion, even as a man.

“That must have been hard; to be loved one minute, mistreated the next.”

He turned and smiled. “It’s in the past.”

“No—” I looked up at him, “—it’s not. You still feel the pain. And I don't know much about the way he treated you, only that he punished quite harshly—”

“You saw some of those punishments?”

“No. None. But Arthur told me how Jason got pneumonia.”

David nodded, relaxing. “Father loved us, Ara, for what it’s worth. He just couldn’t cope in the end.”

“Don’t make excuses for him, David. He mistreated you, and you spent your life hating Jason for that.”

“My hatred for my brother was not because of the mistreatment,” he said. “It was because Father blamed me when Jason would step out of turn.”

“Beat you when Jason would step out of turn.”

His eyes narrowed, focusing on nothing. “Why would Arthur tell you that?”

“He didn’t. You just did.”

The stare broke away to a smile. “You and your assumptions.”

“My correct assumptions,” I said, to which he added nothing. “You started your life alone, David.” I wrapped my arms around him again and felt each indent in his stomach, his ribs and the little place between his breastbones where I liked to rest my cheek. “But you're not alone anymore—I'm here. I love you, and I’ll never let anyone hurt you like that, ever again.”

He nodded, absentmindedly stroking my hair. “Please don't hate me for the things you learn while you're here, Ara. I have changed since I met you.” He tilted my chin upward; regimented David back in place. “Everything you know of me now is who I really am. Don't let my past destroy our future.”

I smiled, because he used the same words I had thought only minutes ago. “It would take something pretty awful to get me to hate you.”

He looked down then and placed a soft hand to my belly. “No luck?”

“Nope. No baby. I had my period last week.”

“Well, maybe one day.” He leaned down and kissed my cheek. “I have to go now.”

“Wait.” I grabbed his arm with both hands and held on tight. “You said you’d stay until I fell asleep.”

“Well, that was before we spent the last ten minutes talking, Ara.” He looked at his watch then sighed. “Fine. Another half hour, and that’s it. It’s very hard to sneak out of this place in the daylight.”

“I'm sure you’ll manage.” I smirked.

He reached out and placed his hand on the back of my neck, directing me to the bed like a naughty child at a nineteen-hundreds boarding school. “Maybe I should manage you better, then I wouldn't find myself in so much trouble.”

“I can think of one way you could manage me.” I landed on the bed with a soft bounce and smiled up at him suggestively.