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“It means that no matter what you do, no matter how hard you try to save her, she will leave this life by her twenty-first birthday, and not a day later.”

Darien couldn’t breathe. His surroundings spun?—

“This upsets you,” the Widow remarked.

“Of course it upsets me,” he gritted out. “I love her.” The truth rang through the fountain—clear as the toll of a silver bell. Quieter, he repeated, as if convincing himself, “I love her.”

He did, didn’t he? He was in love with Loren Calla. He had been lying to himself for some time, trying desperately to wedge distance between them, if only to protect her from his life, his mistakes, his enemies, justhimin general?—

Because she deserved better. Better than him. The best life she could get, whatever and whoever that involved, she deserved it.

But he loved her. He was in love with her.

And it was this truth that had him blurting, “What if I traded my life for hers?”

His question seemed to stun them both. The Widow took so long to respond, Darien was beginning to think she wouldn’t.

But then she said, “I’m afraid it can’t be done.”

“My life is worth more than hers, though,” he argued. “And I say that with the utmost respect for her. Take me, and let her live.” The last word came out broken. Splintered. It took him longer than it should have to realize why.

He was crying. He never cried, and yet here he was, sobbing to an immortal creature over a woman he couldn’t have.

“I’m very sorry, but I cannot accept,” the spider said softly.

“This is bullshit,” he spat. “Take me too, then. If she dies, I’m going, too.” He pointed at the spider with his knife. “Becausefuckall of you, that’s why.”

The spider wasn’t fazed by his tone, the insult. “You wish to die at the same time as the girl?”

Darien’s heart was pounding so hard, he thought he might throw up. All these months he’d spent protecting her, getting to know her, loving every part of her—and he’d have to say goodbye to her anyway.

He wasn’t sure why he’d expected any different. His whole life was made up of nothing but tragedies. What was one more?

Despite the whirlwind of emotions he was trapped in, he managed to grit out, “Yes.”

“And you will give to me the rest of your immortal life the minute her heart ceases to beat and she is considered medically dead? Past the point of resuscitation?”

“Yes.”

“Death will find you both in less than thirteen months’ time. Where and when will be left up to circumstance. This is your final chance to turn back.”

“I’m not turning back,” he declared.

“Then draw your blood, Darien Cassel, and I shall see it done.”

He did not hesitate as he raised the knife to his palm and slashed the blade across his skin.