“She told me that the Unconsecrated rise from the waters and still walk the beaches. That there's no way to fence it off— no way to protect yourself. She said pirates ravage the shores and no one could ever really be safe there.”

I want to protest, to tell him that he's wrong. But instead I look out the window to the trees, to the leaves undulating out in the Forest. The only ocean I've ever known.

“It can't be right,” I whisper.

“It is,” he tells me. “You know that it's true. The ocean your mother used to tell you about was before the Return. Everything has changed since then. Everything.”

“But the ocean is too big for that,” I protest. “Too vast, too deep. I don't understand how the Return can touch that too.”

He waits for a moment before responding, “Nothing in this world is deep enough to withstand the Unconsecrated.”

He looks me in the eyes, traces a finger along my jaw. “Not even us.” I almost believe him but then I shake my head, anger welling deep. “You are wrong, Travis.

You are wrong.” I ball my hands into fists and punch at his chest. “I don't know why you're telling me such stories but you are wrong.”

He takes my hands in his own, curling his fingers around my fists. “She told me that if I allowed you to go to the ocean I would never see you again.”

“Then she was wrong too!” I yell. I pull away from him, backing toward the door so that we're no longer touching. “If you are telling me the truth, then why didn't you tell me this before?

Why did you give me such hope and then tear it away?”

“Because I thought I could protect you,” he answers. “Because I was hoping I would be enough.”

“No.” I shake my head tightly. “I thought you wanted to see the ocean as well. I thought it was our dream. I thought…” I swallow and take a deep breath. “I thought you were coming for me.”

He doesn't look at me as he shakes his head. It feels as if the world is falling away from me.

The realization of what he's saying—what he's not saying—tunnels deep inside me. The words echo in my head: he was never coming for me, he was never coming for me.

Everything spins; everything becomes unbearably bright and then dim. My world tilts and I step backward until my knees hit the edge of the bed and I'm sitting.

My body hurts so bad I want to throw up. “You were never going to come for me, were you?” I ask.

“I'm sorry, Mary,” he says and it's the same thing as a no.

Everything is breaking inside me, shattering. “I don't understand, why are you telling me all this now? Why are you doing this to me?” I put my hands over my head, curling into a ball.

“Because I…” He stops midsentence and is silent. A muscle ripples along his jaw. “Mary, I wanted you too much. And that day on the hill, it was everything. It showed me what life could be—what hope could be. I wanted to believe we could be together. I wanted to believe we could break our vows and that somehow everything would still be okay.” His gaze is distant and he shakes his head. “I was going to come for you, Mary. Even though I knew I could never be the type of husband that Harry could be. Even though I was a broken man I was going to come for you. I was going to let my passion overwhelm my common sense. But then seeing Gabrielle changed everything. I saw what happened to those who strayed from the Sisters' path. I saw what would happen to us—to you. And I couldn't bear it.