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"What?" Simon choked out in a strangled voice. "I did that to you?" He slowly started shaking his head, looking at me in disbelief. "I could never hurt you. Never!"

"How do you explain all this then?" I gestured toward his injured hand. "You were holding me against the wall, so I bit you to escape." I didn't add the part about him promising to pull out my teeth one by one. I shuddered just thinking about it. I wanted to pretend that never happened.

Simon looked at me helplessly, a haunted expression on his face. "I can't believe it. I'd kill myself before I hurt you. But..." His voice trailed off as he glanced down at his injured hand, and then back up at me. "I felt something. Right after you found the journal, I felt something inside me. Like something was pushing me. I don't know how to explain it, but it was like an energy was trying to push me out of the way. I felt it earlier too, but I resisted it and the feeling went away. But I was just so happy to find you today that I didn't care about the crazy feelings inside of me. I just figured it was relief at being with you again."

I took a step forward, wanting to believe Simon, but still fearful that this was a trap. I pushed away the fear, the desolate look in Simon's eyes making my reservations disappear.

"This is what I've been telling you. I think your vardoger is inside of you. It's overtaken your body, but somehow you've been able to resist it, to keep your soul intact." I hesitated, and then took his uninjured hand in mine. Simon's hand wrapped around mine gratefully. "It sounds like you were able to stop it from taki

ng control of your body. You must be unbelievably strong."

"So it's true? Everything you told me earlier is true?"

"I wish it wasn't, Simon. I wish I was just crazy and I could take a magic pill that would make everything alright."

"Oh God," Simon groaned, releasing my hand and collapsing onto the edge of the bed, burying his face in his uninjured hand. "How can...how can I accept this? How can I accept that I hurt you?"

I sat next to him, stroking his back to soothe him. "You didn't hurt me, Simon. I know that wasn't you."

Simon looked up, his face looking ravaged with pain and guilt. "It doesn't matter how you put it. It doesn't matter if I was possessed. I'm still the one that put my hands on you and hurt you." He reached up, touching the corner of my mouth. I winced from the pain and his eyes darkened. "How did I do this?" he whispered.

"You didn't do it," I insisted in a low voice. "It wasn't you."

"How?"

"You...it backhanded me." I regretted telling him when his eyes glazed with agony, but at the same time I was tired of lying about everything. All I wanted to do was tell the truth now.

"You need to get away from me," Simon rasped, looking away. "Before I hurt you again."

I cupped his cheek, forcing him to look at me. "Simon, stop blaming yourself. It's not your fault. You're a victim in this. And you said yourself that you were able to control it taking over before. Anytime you feel it trying to push you out of the way, push back."

"And you're willing to take that chance? You're willing to risk me hurting you again?"

"I'm willing to risk anything for you," I whispered, my heart tightening with love. Now that Simon's vardoger was inside of him, I could never leave him. His vardoger would have to kill me before I ever gave up on him. "We'll figure this out together. Now that I have my aunt's journal, I'll get some answers on how I can destroy the vardogers."

I stood up, drawing Simon to his feet alongside me. "Let's get out of here."

Simon followed me outside, but I could see his emotions warring inside of him. His complexion was even paler than before and there was a stark desperation etched on his face that worried me. I hoped that after the shock of what happened wore off, he would be able to accept everything I had told him.

Simon nodded wordlessly when I told him to follow me in his car to Lenore's house. A part of me was afraid that Simon would drive off instead of following me, convinced that I was safer without him around, so I was relieved when he parked his car behind Lenore's when we arrived at her house.

"Let's get you cleaned up first," I said when we entered the house. I guided Simon into the bathroom where I gently cleaned his wound with a washcloth. I found antiseptic in the medicine cabinet and gently applied it. Simon was silent throughout the process, watching me with bottomless eyes. I would be lying if I didn't admit that I was nervous, fearful that Simon's vardoger would push out into the forefront again. But I told myself I couldn't be scared of Simon. He needed me and I needed him. That was all that mattered.

Simon stopped me when I turned to place the washcloth on the sink and took it from my hand.

"You're bleeding too," he said softly, gently wiping my mouth and chin where blood had dried. I had been so concerned about Simon that I forgot about my own injury, but it seemed of minimal importance with everything else that had happened.

Simon touched me reverently, the washcloth whispering against my skin. Simon dropped the washcloth and replaced it with his gentle fingers, softly caressing my face. His eyes searched mine before he spoke.

"Forgive me."

"Simon, there's nothing to forgive. It wasn't you-"

Simon shook his head, his thumb caressing my bottom lip silencing me. He leaned down, his mouth replacing his thumb. He kissed me softly, light and grazing as if he were trying to heal me with his lips. My heart tightened at his gesture, his profound gentleness shattering me.

"Forgive me," he repeated softly against my lips.

"I forgive you," I whispered, knowing that he needed this absolution, even though he was blameless. "I forgive you, Simon. I love you."

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