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“She obviously needed it. You saw how much the spell required of her.”

Her eyes narrow. She points a finger at her chest. “You should’ve let me do the spell. I’m stronger. I have your blood. What if something had happened to her?”

I filled in Marta on the amount of power a spell of this nature would require, on the precision and dedication it would take. For the three days we had until All Soul’s Days, Marta did nothing but shepherd souls and practice. To her credit, she stepped up to the challenge in a way I did not expect her to. “It was a risk she was willing to take.”

“But I wasn’t. I’m already marked for death. Marta doesn’t need to get involved.”

“Believe it or not, little witch, your cousin wanted to be the one to perform the ritual. I did not request it of her, she offered it. And I turned her down, actually, but she made a very compelling argument for her case.”

She crossed her arms over her chest, leaning back. “And what would that be?”

I hold her gaze, keeping mine just has hard as her own. “That if I’d asked you to do it, you would’ve refused.”

That seems to shake her. She blinks a few times, then looks away.

I don’t let up. “So? Was she wrong? Would you like to tell her that?”

Finally, in a breathy whisper, she says, “no. She wasn’t wrong.”

I groan, running a hand over my face. “Do you see why we kept it from you?” I point to the book in her lap. “There’s a perfectly good way for you to escape this with your life, little witch, and you won’t take it. Everyone around you has given something for you to have this opportunity — Mei crossed over to the Beyond, Marta risked a dangerous spell.” I don’t speak of what I’m giving for this, because it’s the whole sticking point of the situation. She knows. It’s why she’s fighting me on it. “And you’d be willing to throw their sacrifices away.”

“Yes, I would be!” She yells, throwing her arms in the air. “If it means hurting you, then yes. Everyone else doesn’t matter as much.” She shrugs, looking away, as if admitting this pains her. “I know it makes me a horrible person. I don’t care. I choose you first.”

Her admission softens my indignation. I bridge the distance between us, kneeling in front of her. “Don’t you think I feel the same? I didn’t hesitate to put Mei and Marta in danger. I’d have taken whatever consequences would’ve come if it meant your safety, little gem.” I run a knuckle over her cheek, and rejoice when she still leans into the touch. “The world doesn’t matter when it comes to you. It can all burn down.”

Grabbing both her hands, I place them on the book. “But right now, I need you to choose yourself, too.”

Tears streak her cheeks as she shakes her head. “I can’t do that to you.”

“Even if I am offering it?” I reach my fingers to her eyes to collect the tears.

She nods.

“Does it really not make a difference to you that I am at peace with this? That I am willing? I’m yours, Esmeralda. What’s another part of me, when you already own the rest?”

A sob shakes her, and despite my original resolve to give her space, I cave, joining her on the bed. I move the book out of the way and wrap her in my arms, cradling her against my chest.

“What becomes of us, if we do this?”

My eyebrows furrow. “What do you mean?”

“How can we still be together, if you’re bound to me? If you have no choice in the matter? How is that a fair way to develop a relationship?”

Is that really what concerns her? “Do you not see I am making a choice? I want you, Esme. You are my choice. I’m not giving up anything I’m not willing to sacrifice, here. You are the thing I cannot live without. Everything else? It’s disposable.”

She shakes her head against my chest. “What about your throne?”

“You can have it.”

She snorts a laugh that turns into a sob. “I don’t want it.”

I stroke her hair back. “Then you won’t have to sit on it.”

“Your family, what will they say if they find out what we did?”

A tingle runs down my spine as she says that, as she starts opening up to the idea of actually going through with this. “I don’t care what they say, Esme. I’ve done many things they don’t condone, this won’t be the first, and certainly not the last.”

“It’ll be the worst.”

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