I look at him, starting to speak, but he cuts me off before I can get to the words. “The past few days I’ve been getting these flashes—glimpses, really—of various moments from my past—both distant and near.” He looks at me, carefully searching my face. “But the moment we came here—” He gestures around. “It started trickling back, slowly at first until it all came surging forth, including the moments I was under Roman’s control. I also relived my death. Those few brief moments after you broke through the circle, before you had me drink the antidote, as you know, I was dying. I watched my entire life flash before me, six hundred years of unchecked vanity, narcissism, selfishness, and greed. Like an endless reel of all of my actions, every misdeed that I’d done—accompanied by the impact I had—the mental and physical effect of my mistreatment of others. And though there were a few decent acts here and there, the majority, well, it amounted to centuries of me focusing on nothing but my own self-interest, giving very little thought to anything or anyone else. Focusing solely on the physical world to the detriment of my soul. Leaving me no doubt I was right all along, my karma’s to blame for what we’re going through now.” He shakes his head and meets my gaze with such unflinching honesty I want to reach out and touch him, hold him, tell him it will all be okay. But instead I stay put, sensing there’s more and it’s about to get worse.

“Then, at the moment of my death, instead of coming here, to Summerland—” His voice cracks but he forces himself to continue. “I—I went to a place the exact opposite of this. A place so dark and cold it’s more like a Shadowland. Experiencing the same thing you just did. Solitary, suspended, alone—left to stay that way for all of eternity.” He looks at me, willing me to understand. “It was exactly like you felt. It was as though I was isolated, soulless—with no connection to anything or anyone else.”

I stare into his eyes, an ominous chill blanketing my skin, never having seen him so tired, so jaded, so—regretful—before.

“And now I understand the very thing that’s escaped me all these years—”

I pull my knees to my chest, shielding myself from whatever comes next.

“Only our physical bodies are immortal. Our souls are most certainly not.”

I avert my gaze, unable to look at him, unable to breathe.

“This is the future you’re facing. The one I’ve granted you, if, God forbid, anything should happen, that is.”

My fingers instinctively fly to my throat, remembering what Roman said about my compromised chakra, my lack of discernment and weakness, wondering if there’s some way to guard it. “But—how can you be sure?” I look at him as though caught in a dream, some horrible nightmare with no way to escape. “I mean, there’s a good chance you’re wrong since it happened so fast. So maybe that was just a temporary state. You know, like I brought you back to life so fast you didn’t have time to make the trip here.”

He shakes his head, his gaze meeting mine when he says, “Tell me, Ever, what did you see when you died? How did you spend those few moments between the time when your soul left your body and I returned you to life?”

I swallow hard and look away, gazing at the trees, the flowers, the colorful stream flowing nearby—remembering that day I found myself in this very same field. So taken by its heady fragrance, its shimmering mist, the all-encompassing feel of unconditional love, I was tempted to linger forever, never wanting to leave.

“The reason you didn’t see the abyss is because you were still mortal. You’d died a mortal’s death. But the moment I had you drink from the elixir, granting you infinite life, everything changed. Instead of an eternity in Summerland or the place beyond the bridge—the Shadowland became your fate.”

He shakes his head and looks away, so deeply mired in his private world of regret I’m afraid I’ll never reach him again. But just as quickly his eyes meet mine when he says, “We can live an eternity in the earth plane, you and I together. But if something should happen, if one of us should die—” He shakes his head. “The abyss is where we’ll go, and we’ll never see each other again.”

I start to speak, desperate to refute it, tell him he’s wrong, but I can’t. It’s no use. All I have to do is look in his eyes to see the real truth.

“And as much as I believe in the powerful healing magick of this place—just look at the way it healed my memory—” He shrugs and shakes his head. “I can’t afford to give in, no matter how safe my desire for you may seem. It’s too risky. And we’ve no proof it’ll be any different here than on the earth plane. It’s a gamble I can’t afford to take. Not when I need to do everything I can to keep you safe.”

“Keep me safe?” I gape. “You’re the one who needs saving! It’s my fault all this happened in the first place! If I hadn’t—”

“Ever, please,” he says, voice stern, willing me to listen. “You’re in no way to blame. When I think about the way I’ve lived—the things I’ve done—” He shakes his head. “I deserve nothing better. And if there was any question that my karma was to blame, well, I think it ends here. I’ve spent the better part of six hundred years devoting myself to physical pleasure and neglecting my soul—and this is the result—the wake-up call, and unfortunately, I’ve dragged you along. So make no mistake, my concern is for you and you only. You’re my only priority. My life is only important in that I stay well long enough to protect you from Roman and whoever else he might hurt. And that means we can never be together. Never. It’s a risk we can’t take.”