I stepped closer, looping my elbow through his and ignoring the chill down my spine at his words. The certainty in them. I focused instead on the euphoric tingle in my chest, the warmth spreading through my limbs. His arm felt solid in mine. Real. I couldn’t have stopped my grin if I’d tried. Which I didn’t. “I bet they have all sorts of fun things planned for you.”

He inclined his head. “Fun is one word.”

“You’re lying.” Nicholina lunged again, and he stepped in front of me, blocking her knife. The movement held a sort of grace, or perhaps confidence, he’d never achieved in life. Fascinated, morbidly curious—and something else, something that weighed heavy in my chest—I plucked the knife from midair, paced backward twice, and threw it at him.

He caught it without hesitation—without even looking, the cheeky bastard—and I laughed again, unable to help myself. That heavy sensation in my chest lessened slightly when he blushed. “This is an interesting development,” I said.

“Lots of those going around.” He lifted a brow before pressing the knife back into my hand. Though Nicholina sprang for it, she couldn’t seem to move past him to reach me. The wall he’d erected held firm. He didn’t acknowledge her efforts, so I didn’t either. “The Lou I knew wouldn’t have given up,” he continued softly. My grin vanished. “She would’ve fought, and she would’ve won.”

My own words were barely audible. I spoke through numb lips. “Not without you, she wouldn’t have.”

“You’ve never needed me, Lou. Not like I needed you.”

“Look where that got you.” I closed my eyes, a fat tear rolling down my cheek. “I’m so sorry, Ansel. I—I should’ve protected you. I never should’ve let you come with me.”

“Lou.”

My chin quivered.

“Lou,” he repeated, voice soft. “Look at me. Please.” When I still didn’t, he turned his back on Nicholina completely, drawing me into a hug. My arms wrapped around his slender torso of their own volition, and though they shook, they held on tight. Too tight. Like they’d never let him go again. “I didn’t want to be protected. I wanted to help you—”

“You did—”

“I know I did,” he said firmly, squeezing me once before drawing back. My arms remained locked around him. Removing them one at a time, he disentangled himself gently, stronger now than before. Strong and graceful and confident. Another tear spilled over. “And I’m going to help you again.” He nodded toward Nicholina, who thrashed against the invisible barrier. “You’ll have to kill her.”

“I’ve tried.”