“We need to talk.”

Eamon’swords echoed throughout the hospital room, their dread bouncing off the sanitized walls, and Bel pushed herself to a seat. Dr. Charles Blaubart, a well-respected plastic surgeon, had made a deal with a devil over a decade ago, but the black magic used to bring him wealth had claimed his beloved wife as the sacrifice. The surgeon had spent years trying to recreate her in the bodies of living women he conned into loving him, and as fate would have it,he’dset his violent sights on Detective Isobel Emerson for his eighth bride. Faking her death for the world to mourn, Charles had dragged her deep into the mountains to carve apart with his cursed scalpel until her face was no longer herown,but that of a deadwoman’s.Only he miscalculatedBel’swill to live,tosurvive even when faced with the impossible. She’descaped his hell ofa surgeryto flee down the mountainside, surviving despite the desperation and falling snow, whichwas why shewas currently confinedto the hospital instead of preparing for the holidays at home.

“What’swrong?”she repeated, aching for Eamon to touch her, to reachout his hand and grip her fingers as he rejoiced in her survival, but his fists remained firmly in his lap.

“The hospital isn’t the place,” he answered.

“No,it’snot,”she agreed.“But you brought it up, and if you believeit’sworth a conversation,there’sno point putting it off.Ifsomething’sbothering you,justtell me because Ican’tbear any more turmoil.I survived a monster and a mountain because I knew you were waiting for me. You were the only thing pushing me to fight when I bitBlaubart’s neck toescape,when I ran coatless through those frozen woods. All I wanted was to make it home to you, so ifsomething’swrong, please tell me.I’drather know now than worry about you while trying to heal.”

“I’mkilling you,”he said, his words so abrupt that she leaned back as if seeing more of him would explain his meaning. “You’rein the hospital yet again, andI’mthe one that put you here,”he continued before she could speak.

“What are you talking about?”Bel pinched her eyebrows at the towering man sinking into the chair before her. Escaping a serial killer was what had landed her in this bed. Her millionaire had played no part in it.

“I’mthe reasonyou’rehere.I’mresponsible for all your hospital visits over the past year.I’mwhy so much death and violence have entered your life.You’vebeen lucky so far, but luck always runs out. How long before I get you killed?”

“Eamon, what has gotten into?—?”

“Iput those scars on your throat,”he cut her off.“I almost killed you with my own hands. And if thatwasn’tsin enough, I moved to Bajka, luring Alcina after me. She almost killed you, and if your doghadn’tinterrupted her magic, I might have bled you dry on the forest floor.”

“Youwouldn’thave.”Bel leaned forward to emphasize her words.“You could never kill me.”

“But I came close.”He jerked to a stand, his chair skidding backward, and she hated herself for flinching at his force. “Then Abel kidnapped you because he was jealous of me. I brought you onto the Darling case, where one lunatic almost blew you up and another shot at you. I introduced you to Charles Blaubart, who dragged you into the mountainswith every intention of carvingup your face until you were no longer my Isobel. Every time I do something, you suffer the consequences. When the news broke of your accident, there were hours when I thought you were dead. I cannot describe the relief I felt when I realized the body on the tablewasn’tyours, but it was a brutal wake-up call because one dayitwillbe yours. One day, youwon’tescape.I’lleventually get you killed, and Iwon’tdo that. Iwon’tlet you die. I love you too much to bury you.”

“What are you saying?”Bel balled her hands into a fist, the injuries on her palms so painful that it stalled her tears of panic.“What are you saying, Eamon?”

“I think you’re safer without me.”

“No.”The word was a bullet from her mouth.

“Isobel…”

“No, I’m not.”

“Isobel.”Eamon grabbed her fists, unfurling them to ease her discomfort.“Seeing you in this hospital bed is a pain so ugly that I’mnot strong enough to bear, and I love you enough to put you first. Iwon’tbe the reason you die.”

“I’mnot going to die.”

“I know. Because I won’t be selfish. I’m the problem, and if I remove myself from your life, you’ll be safe.”

“Stop.”

“Ican’tbe selfish, Isobel. Ican’tstay and let one evil after the next befall you until you end up in the morgue.”

“So,you’vejust decided then?”she spat, unsure if she should slap him or dissolve into tears. Imagining their reunion was the only thing that drove her to brave that endless snow, but with the stroke of a few words,he’dbutchered her reason for surviving.“You’releaving me?”

“No,I’mtalking to you,”he said, lacing his fingers through hers.“I would never just leave you. Icouldn’thurt you like that, but I need you to understand why I feel thisway,because if I get you killed,I’llnever forgive myself.”

“Stop saying that.”

“Butit’strue, and you know it. Your problems began when I entered your life.”

“But you sworeto never leave me.”

“Ialso swore to protect you, yet here you lie.”He released her hands as if he was unsure what to do with his body.“Do you think I want this? Do you think I want to leave you? I would rather die, but if leaving saves your life,I’mwilling to suffer. I would rather love you from afar thanlove youdead in the dirt. My old self would never put your safety above his desires, but I refuse to return to the monster I once was.You’vechanged me, andI’mputting you first. If wedidn’tat least have this conversation,you’dwake up one day and realizeI’dbrought so much suffering into your life, yet refused to do anything to stop it. You would resent me.”

“No, I wouldn’t.”

“Yes, you would.You’resmart. You have self-respect, andyou’deventually look back and see that I never took action to resolve the harm I knowingly caused you. You would hate me for never putting you first.What’smore,I’dhate myself.I’veseen wicked men love women before. Those girls often paid the price for loving mentooselfish to save them from themselves. Iwon’tlet that be you.”