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Vivian held Dove tight,fighting tears while her former Chosen sniffled in her arms.

“It doesn’t feel right, leaving you like this,” Dove said.

“Marcus Steele is a good, trustworthy man.” Unlike his uncle, the magister. “He’ll take excellent care of you.”

Dove stepped back, peering up at her. “And who will take care of you?”

She wiped Dove’s tears. “Don’t you worry about me. I’ll be fine.”

Moments ago, in the study, they’d performed the ritual that would transfer Dove’s Chosen bond to Lord Marcus Steele. When Vivian had finally gotten through to him on the phone, she’d worried about what his answer would be. The moment she mentioned Dove, she’d captured his full attention.

Seeing her old friend after all these months had come as a shock. Not that she’d been able to discern much about his wounds since he’d worn a hood, hiding his damaged face. Tiberius was right. His nephew was far from well. Hopefully, Dove would be the cure he needed. For many species of the underworld, faerie blood was life’s elixir. There were a number of unscrupulous beings in the underworld who would exploit that gift. Dove becoming Marcus’ Chosen would benefit them both. Protection for Dove, healing for the injured lord.

Dove cast a look at the dark sedan parked outside and shivered. “He’s different than he was before.” The two had met briefly at the opening of Marcus’ casino, the night he’d almost died.

“Marcus has been through a lot since the accident. Be patient with him. He needs you in more ways than one. Share your light with him the way you did with me.” Before Dove, her life had been dark and joyless. Then a bright-eyed faerie helped her to chase away the shadows. Vivian feared she’d take that light with her when she left.

Dove grasped her hands. “Promise me that when all of this is over, you’ll contact me immediately. Surely by then, Lord Steele will be on the mend and eager to be rid of me.”

“Promise.” Though Vivian worried Marcus’ injuries would take some time to heal. They’d cross that bridge when they came to it. For now, at least, Dove would be safe.

Dove turned to a sniffling Armond and threw her arms around his neck. “Please call when you can and send me pictures of your trip.”

“A pack of wild hellhounds couldn’t stop me.” He hugged her back with his uninjured arm. The other remained in a sling. Pain darkened his features, though Vivian imagined it had little to do with his injury.

“Go on now,” Armond urged. “Don’t want to keep the man waiting.”

Dove hiccupped a sigh, making an obvious effort to smile. “On to a new adventure, right?”

Vivian swallowed the lump in her throat. “That’s right,ma chérie.”

One last peck to Vivian’s cheek, and Dove headed out the door.

Armond wrapped his arm around Vivian’s shoulders, saying softly in her ear, “Ask me to stay.”

“That would be selfish.” She might have given him a new life that fateful night in Versailles, but in the years since she’d turned him, he’d given her so much more.

“It’s just for a few weeks,” he said, as though reassuring them both. “You’ll contact me the moment it’s safe to return.”

“Bien sûr. Of course I will. Enjoy your trip with Desmond. I hear Italy is lovely this time of year.”

Armond stepped back, grasping her fingertips. “You could come with me. It will be like old times, the two of us breaking hearts, setting the night on fire.”

Her icy resolve remained firm. “That would defeat the purpose of my squiring you off to a secret location.”

His eyes darkened. “I agree with Dove. It doesn’t feel right leaving you this way.”

“Knowing you’re both safe, I can focus on what I have to do.”

“And what is that exactly?” He canted his head. “You still haven’t told me.”

She squeezed his hand. “Let me worry about the details.”

He sighed with defeat. “If you need anything, contact me, and I will race to your side.”

“Certainly, darling. Now go before you miss your plane.”

He kissed her cheek and left, taking her heart with him.