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He looks at me for a long moment.

“You asked me why I kept trying to push you away.”

“Yes.”

“I lied.”

I stiffen.

“Not about wanting you,” he says quickly. “Never about that.”

His thumb moves over my hand again.

“I gave up hope I'd ever find my promised.”

Something in his voice makes me stop breathing.

“Why, Damian?”

“My days were numbered before you arrived.”

“What?”

He looks towards the window. For once, he seems unable to meet my eyes.

“It's part of the curse.”

“What is?”

“The Devil taking over if we’re not mated by forty.”

He finally looks at me. And I see it. Fear. Real fear.

Not the dramatic kind.

Not panic.

The quiet kind that comes from having lived with something horrible long enough that you've already accepted it.

“My wings and tail aren't supposed to be permanent. They are because the curse started to take hold.”

I glance behind him.

“My red skin was spreading. Changes were lasting longer. Grandmother kept sending spells and medicinal teas to slow it down, but nothing was stopping it.”

My appetite disappears.

“What would happen if it takes over?”

“I stop being me.”

My stomach drops.

“Damian—”

“I lose reason. Control. Eventually there's nothing left except the Devil.”

Clarissa's explanation comes rushing back.