Late afternoon sunlight streamed over me, breaking the pattern. Dain's stag was walking, meandering out into the meadow with the bluff. Dain had to come here all the time, I realized. We didn't always ride together, and he and I had come here several times. The black deer came to a halt and nibbled at the grass as I stared at the bare stone.

In a daze, I slithered off of the back of the stag, landing too heavily and staggering. I heard the thud of more feet hitting the ground, and passed one of the guards the reins of Dain's mount absently, wandering over towards the rock face. When I got to it, I put my hands on the cold stone, then leaned my whole body against it, starting to cry.

What do I do, James? I asked the universe, willing the question to somehow slide through the stone under my hands and out of Faery, to the great granite mountains of Yosemite and the ghost of my boyfriend. I was so used to falling back on his advice, and now he was gone. That loss yawned like a chasm inside of me, one that had little bridges and connectors built over it now, but into which I could still fall. How the fuck do I deal with this?

The stone didn't give me an answer, but the familiarity of having my hands on a rock wall stabilized me. It wasn't the killing that I couldn't bear, I decided. Nor was it the possessiveness and protectiveness, or the passion of those two emotions. But the intersection of them was intolerable. I would not – could not – be the affectionate soulmate of someone who would do that. Not in cold blood. If he wanted any hope of having me by his side, Dain would need to fucking clean up his act, and I would need to believe it. He had one hundred and seventy-one days to do it.

He'd once annihilated a city to end a war. He'd protected his soldiers. He'd told me he didn't like pain and suffering. Dain had used his reputation as a cudgel in open court today, but the actual Beast of Phazikai? He never would have started a war, however furious he was. And I was more than willing to throw all of that in his face, and deal with whatever snarling, growling fallout came my way.

I sort of knew that Dain would be standing there when I turned around. He'd told me only today that he was capable of tracking someone by scent, and that he would never forget mine. After that display in open court, I knew he would never have been willing to let me disappear into the woods and not return.

He hadn't even changed his clothing.

"Don't speak to me," I said quietly, when he opened his mouth to do exactly that.