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“The shadows won’t come if you’re magically weak,” I assure him.

His eyes are dark and unreadable. “I know.”

“Then I don’t understand.”

“When I sleep, I won’t wake up the same person as the one who woke this morning.” I shake my head, confused still. “I’m a killer now.”

“We can work on stopping this.” He looks away. “We will, because we need to.”

Rowan holds a fist against his mouth, pushing back his words.

No. Oh, no.

“You don’t agree?” I step back. “Is this what you want? For the shadows to consume you? To twist you into someone they control?”

His lips part, but no sound comes.

“Rowan. Tell me you don’t want this.”

His eyes meet mine, and they don’t hold the answer I hoped for.

I grew up with four parents who’ve ended lives, and always saw the killers behind their masks.

The same frightening truth lives in Rowan’s worried gaze.

Rowandoesn’t want the power to kill—yet he does , and that’s what terrifies him. Terrifies me .

Rowan’s breath shudders as he drags his hands through his hair again, and grips. “I don’t?—”

“Lying to me is pointless, Rowan. Lying to yourself is worse.”

He hesitates, then winds his arms around himself too as if to hold his disappearing self together.

“It was so easy, Violet. That’s what petrifies me. The shadows waited, and I didn’t resist them.”

His voice cracks, and he squeezes his eyes shut.

“I wanted to kill,” he says finally, voice raw. “For a second, I wanted to. Not the shadows. Me .”

Hearing aloud what I’ve known since the moment I dragged him away from the shadows at the funeral home hits. Not because I’ve changed somebody else through their association with me, but becauseI understand.

“The same happens to you, doesn’t it? Not the shadows’ influence, but the hybrid,” he says cautiously. “You struggle to control her.”

“Yes, but I fight my darker desires.”

“You intended to kill Viktor.”

“Again, yes. I can’t deny I have inherent deadly traits and disregard for life. Neither can Grayson, but you’re different. He and I were created that way. Witches rarely are.”

“Rarely.” He takes a slow steady breath. “But we’re not incapable.”

“But these desires only come through magical corruption, and only a powerful witch could use them,” I say quietly. “None can control that.”

“Corruption like this, Violet?”

I take a sharp breath. Mine.

“Yes. We don’t need to end what we are, Rowan, but tonight will happen again if we don’t work on ending what has a hold of you,” I whisper. “This isn’t the bond; this is what we’ve created.”

Rowan finally reaches out, one palm cupping my cheek. I brace myself against sensing the magic I’ve come to fight, but the shadows aren’t at the surface.

Am I right? Is ending their influence possible?

“So, you’re not here to tell me to keep away from you or you’ll break my legs?” he asks, smiling weakly.

No, I’m here to solve an unsolvable problem.

“You wouldn’t make a good right-hand man if you can’t walk.”

“Yeah.” He’s silent for a moment then lowers his voice. “You don’t look at me as if I’m a monster now.”

“How can I? You’re still Rowan. We must accept what you did, however uncomfortably, and ensure that it never, ever happens again.”

Our eyes lock in a silent understanding. How can we be sure?

Rowan draws me to him, hesitant, as if my magic might harm him instead. “I honestly expected you to lose your shit with me.”

“And prompt unpleasant responses in you? When we fight, the darkness converges. I am upset more than angry, because I wish you’d listened to me.”

Rowan’s fingers dig into my back. The greatest source of our conflict—Rowan hates others telling him what to do. But he nods, gaze dropping to my lips before he moves closer, not quite touching, but near enough that I can feel the heart of him.

Tonight, I should distance myself from the bond, from the shadows, from everything that ties us together. But he’s right. The urgesin Rowan aren’t foreign to me and have the same hold. I don’t draw on the shadows, butI belong to the dark. We both do.

The bond pulled us together, but Rowan’s become something else. Rowan is as much a part of me as the magic that binds us . The space between us disappears, Rowan’s fingers slide into my hair, and his lips brush mine, pausing like he’s giving me a chance to stop this. I don’t. I can’t.

The kiss crashes between us, raw and desperate, the weight of his magic pressing against mine in our need to hold onto each other.

The shadows haven’t settled in Rowan’s soul, and the bond tugs, urging me closer.

Then I sense them licking at the edges of my mind, calling on the Blackwood to respond to what’s inside him. Are they using Rowan to get to me ?

Dorian refuses to utilize the shadows, never taught me to either use or resist the magic, yet he never succumbed when they were within him. What if I’m the same? What if I can take away my dark gift to Rowan,pull them from him, and veer Rowan off this path?

With that thought, a shock of energybursts, magic surging and twisting into mine. The shadows surge but I can’t allow them. They’re a legacy I don’t want, and one denied to me for a reason.

Ibreak away from the kiss.

Rowan staggers, breath ragged. “I know what you’re doing. You can’t take the shadows away. Not anymore.”

I want to tell Rowan that he’s wrong. To do something, anything, to fix this.

But I can’t.

“The more we talk about the shadows, the closer they’ll be.” Rowan’s erratic heart sounds in my ears. “You should sleep. Nothing will happen.”

“Are you staying?” His voice is quieter now, rough around the edges, like he’s afraid of the answer.

“How can I not stay with you tonight?”

“But you said nothing will happen.”

“Good grief, Rowan.” He chuckles at me, but I welcome the break in tension and retreat from the magic. “Get some sleep. You’re not going to lose yourself to dark desires overnight.”

“You sure about that?” Something flickers in his expression that makes my stomach twist in response.

He traces fingers along my jaw before settling at the back of my neck, then his lips brush mine once more, softer now.

“Stay,” he says again, voice raw almost desperate, and his forehead rests against mine.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

This time our kiss is steadier, like we’re anchoring to each other as the Violet and Rowan who can lose themselves in more than their magic. The gentleness holds back the magic storming around us, and the shadows don’t stir inside the bond.

The shadows may still be there, curling at the edges of us, but tonight, they stay quiet.

Tonight, I stay.

And in the warmth of Rowan’s arms and the steady beat of his heart against mine, I can lie to myself that nothing has changed.