“Doesn’t it?” Jaenelle snapped, her voice shaking with anger and hurt. “I’m healed, but you still can’t bring yourself to touch me, can’t even hold my hand—”

“Do you think it’s because I don’t want to?” Daemon roared. “I can’t touch you!” His breathing hitched, surprising him, as the guilt he’d tried to lock away broke through. “It made me sick when I realized that no matter how careful I was, I couldn’t touch you without hurting you, that even the lightest brush of my fingers left bruises smeared on your arms and hands, that when I helped you sit up in bed, there would be dark bruises in the shape of my hands on your back and shoulders. Every time I touched you, I hurt you, drained more of your strength because there was something else you had to heal.”

“That’s not—” Jaenelle paused. Then she sighed. “In the beginning, that was true. Everything was so . . . frail . . . it didn’t take much to cause damage. But I did heal. It’s been months since I’ve been that fragile.”

He heard the words, but pain drove him now, forcing him to say what he’d hoped he’d never have to admit. “You suffered. Every moment you were awake, every move you made . . . you suffered.” He still couldn’t bear thinking of how much worse it had been when she’d first risen from the healing webs. How had Ladvarian, Kaelas, and the rest of the kindred who had cared for her endured watching her suffer?

Tears filled his eyes. “I understand why you want me out of your life. Sweetheart, I do understand. But I’d hoped you could forgive me.”

Jaenelle’s anger faded, but the hurt was still there. “Forgive you for what?”

“You suffered . . . because of me. You rose up from the healing webs too soon . . . because of me.”

Horror began filling her eyes. “Daemon . . .”

The tears fell. He choked back a sob. “They told me you would come back, but I didn’t believe them. Couldn’t believe them. I wanted you so much, needed you so much . . . and you came back too soon. Because of me.”

“That isn’t true. The healing webs had done all they could and—”

“Liar.” He waited, but she didn’t deny it. She couldn’t—and they both knew it. “You could have stayed longer in the healing webs, could have given your body more time to mend. But you never could withstand a plea for help from someone you cared about. And a cry of pain from me?” He shook his head. “You would have answered that cry no matter what it cost you. You paid the price for my doubts, and there was nothing I could do to make it up to you.”

“Daemon . . .”