“Right?” I interrupt, even though I know he’s threatening me.
He doesn’t respond. He just continues with his rant. “Tomorrow, they’ll watch you defend a monster and wonder what kind of woman you’ve become.”
“Then I’ll stand beside him.” I lean forward. “They’ll see me choose him. Choose him knowing everything. And whatever they think of me after that—that’s their problem, not mine.”
“They’ll think you’re insane.”
“Maybe. But they won’t think Julian tricked me. They won’t think he’s a predator who seduced an innocent woman.” I hold his gaze. “They’ll see a choice. My choice. And you don’t get to take that away from me.”
Something shifts in Damien’s expression. The confidence wavers. Just for a second. Just enough for me to see that I’ve surprised him.
Good. I’m tired of being underestimated.
“You really love him,” he says.
“Yes.”
“Even knowing what he is. What he’s done. What he’s capable of.”
“Yes.”
“Even knowing he let Katya die.”
This is the hard part. The part I’ve been turning over in my mind since Julian told me the truth.
“He made an impossible choice,” I say slowly. “He had seconds to save two people he loved in danger. He ran toward Margaret because she was his. You would have done the same. That’s not evil. That’s human nature.”
“He’s not human.”
“No. But you both still have your humanity in you.” I take a breath. “I can’t hate him for loving someone enough to save her. Even if saving her meant losing someone else. Even if losing someone else meant losing you.”
Damien’s hands clench. “You don’t understand—”
“I understand that you lost someone you loved. I understand that kind of grief can eat you alive.” I think about Preston. About the months I spent drowning in hurt and anger. “But Julian didn’t kill Katya. The hunters did. Julian just couldn’t save her in time. And punishing him for a hundred and forty-six years won’t bring her back.”
“You think I don’t know that?” His voice cracks. “You think I haven’t spent every night of my existence knowing that nothing I do will change what happened?”
“Then why keep doing it?”
He doesn’t answer. Can’t answer. The question hangs between us like something breakable.
“The women Julian loved,” I say quietly. “Margaret. Corinne. Anya. You killed them. Or drove them to death. You spent over a century destroying everyone who made him happy.”
“He chose—”
“He chose to save the woman he loved. That’s all he did. Everything else—the revenge, the murder, the decades of hunting—that was your choice.” I hold his gaze. “You could have grieved Katya and moved on. Instead, you became a monster out for revenge. That’s not Julian’s fault. That’s yours.”
Something moves behind Damien’s eyes. Something old and wounded and furious.
“You’re going to regret this,” he says.
“Maybe. But I’d regret running more.”
“He’ll lose you eventually. They always leave. They always die.”
“Then I’ll be another name on the list. But at least I’ll have lived my life with him first.” I straighten my shoulders. “At least I’ll have chosen love instead of fear.”
Silence... well, except for the pool party.
