Shadowland (The Immortals #3)(2)

“We are all connected, all of us made of the same vibrating source. But while some energy leaves you cold and some leaves you lukewarm, the one that you’re destined for? It feels just like this.”

I close my eyes and turn, allowing the tears to stream down my cheeks, no longer able to keep them in check. Knowing I’m barred from the feel of his skin, the touch of his lips, the solid warm comfort of his body on mine. This electric energy field that trembles between us is the closest I’ll get, thanks to the horrible decision I made.

“Science is just now catching up with what metaphysicians and the great spiritual teachers have known for centuries. Everything is energy. Everything is one.”

I can hear the smile in his voice as he draws closer, eager to entwine his fingers with mine. But I move away quickly, catching his eye just long enough to see the look of hurt that crosses his face—the same look he’s been giving me since I made him drink the antidote that returned him to life. Wondering why I’m acting so quiet, so distant, so remote—refusing to touch him when just a few weeks before I couldn’t get enough. Incorrectly assuming it’s because of his hurtful behavior—his flirting with Stacia, his cruelty toward me—when the truth is, it has nothing to do with that. He was under Roman’s spell, the entire school was. It wasn’t his fault.

What he doesn’t know is that while the antidote returned him to life, the moment I added my blood to the mix it also ensured we could never be together.

Never.

Ever.

For all of eternity.

“Ever?” he whispers, voice deep and sincere. But I can’t look at him. Can’t touch him. And I certainly can’t utter the words he deserves to hear:

I messed up—I’m so sorry—Roman tricked me, and I was desperate and dumb enough to fall for his ploy—And now there’s no hope for us because if you kiss me, if we exchange our DNA—you’ll die—

I can’t do it. I’m the worst kind of coward. I’m pathetic and weak. And there’s just no way I can find it within me.

“Ever, please, what is it?” he asks, alarmed by my tears. “You’ve been like this for days. Is it me? Is it something I’ve done? Because you know I don’t remember much of what happened, and the memories that are starting to surface, well, you must know by now that wasn’t the real me. I would never intentionally hurt you. I’d never harm you in any way.”

I hug myself tightly, scrunching my shoulders and bowing my head. Wishing I could make myself smaller, so small he could no longer see me. Knowing his words are true, that he’s incapable of hurting me, only I could do something so hurtful, so rash, so ridiculously impulsive. Only I could be stupid enough to fall for Roman’s bait. So eager to prove myself as Damen’s one true love—wanting to be the only one who could save him—and now look at the mess that I’ve made.

He moves toward me, sliding his arm around me, grasping my waist and pulling me near. But I can’t risk the closeness, my tears are lethal now, and must be kept far from his skin.

I scramble to my feet and run toward the ocean, curling my toes at its edge and allowing the cold white froth to splash onto my shins. Wishing I could dive under its vastness and be carried by the tide. Anything to avoid saying the words—anything to avoid telling my one true love, my eternal partner, my soul mate for the last four hundred years, that while he may have given me eternity—I’ve brought us our end.

I remain like that, silent and still. Waiting for the sun to sink until I finally turn to face him. Taking in his dark shadowy outline, nearly indistinguishable from the night, and speaking past the sting in my throat when I mumble, “Damen . . . baby . . . there’s something I need to tell you.”





two


I kneel beside him, hands on my knees, toes buried in sand, wishing he’d look at me, wishing he’d speak. Even if it’s only to tell me what I already know—that I made a grave and stupid mistake—one that will possibly never be erased. I’d gladly accept it—heck, I deserve it. What I can’t stand is his absolute silence and faraway gaze.

And I’m just about to say something, anything, to break this unbearable stillness, when he looks at me with eyes so weary they’re the perfect embodiment of his six hundred years. “Roman.” He sighs, shaking his head. “I didn’t recognize him, I had no idea—” His voice trails off along with his gaze.

“There’s no way you could’ve known,” I say, eager to erase any guilt he might feel. “You were under his spell from the very first day. Believe me, he had it all planned, made sure any memories were completely erased.”

His eyes search my face studying me closely before he stands and turns away. Gazing out at the ocean, hands balled into fists as he says, “Did he hurt you? Did he go after you or harm you in any way?”

I shake my head. “He didn’t have to. It was enough to hurt me through you.”

He turns, eyes growing darker as his features harden, inhaling deeply as he says, “This is my fault.”

I gape, wondering how he could possibly believe that after the case I just made. Rising to my feet and standing beside him as I cry, “Don’t be ridiculous! Of course it’s not your fault! Did you listen to anything I said?” I shake my head. “Roman poisoned your elixir and hypnotized you. You had nothing to do with it, you were just doing his bidding—it was beyond your control!”