I read Summer’s last messages again and again and again. I’m tired of being kept in the dark. Mal stares at me with wild, white anger that I haven’t seen on him before. Heat rolls off of his body in waves that crash at my feet.

“Fine,” he spits.

“Fine.”

He grabs his suitcase, which is already packed and zipped, and blazes to the door. I’m still in bed when he stops, sighs, and comes back, looking wasted and empty. It’s like those ten steps away from me drained him completely.

“Please,” he says quietly.

I know what he is asking.

He is asking me not to make it any harder for him. To come without question.

I think about Callum sleeping with Summer.

About letting Mal do unholy things to me while I was still with Cal.

About cheating and being cheated on. I never thought either of those things would happen to me.

But I also know they happened for a reason.

They say once a cheater, always a cheater.

But I think sometimes things do not appear broken, but they are, and through the crack, bad things slip in.

I’m screwing up my something whole because Mal is in a desperate situation. I’m starting to see I’m not being fair to him.

“Mal,” I breathe.

He slowly looks up. I see bad things have already slipped into his broken interior.

“Have you ever been in love?” I ask.

A huge smile breaks on his face. It is true and big and real, and it can keep me burning forever. I know as long as I see this smile every day, I will never be cold.

“Funny you should ask. Yes, yes, I have been. I still am. It started eight years ago, in the most unlikely event, and it has no expiration date.”

I stand and walk over to him. I cup his stubbled cheek.

He shakes his head. “Just trust me, Rory, when I say we need to go—not because I think you should give up on something for me, not because you owe me anything. But because I’m only half-alive when I’m not in Tolka, and you deserve the full experience, not just part of me.”

His mouth meets mine, but he is not kissing me. Just tracing his lips along mine as he speaks to me.

“I love you, Princess Aurora Belle Jenkins Doherty of New Jersey, you little heart slayer.”

“I love you, King Malachy Doherty of Tolka, my bigger-than-average-but-not-uncomfortably-so soul crusher. Now, let’s go say goodbye to Ashton before we leave.”

The first thing to tip me off that something’s wrong is the smell. It smells like urine and rotten meat. I push the door open while Mal loiters at the door, texting.