Page 152 of Veil of Death and Shadow

I’d been so naive I didn’t even consider it, didn’t think to see it coming. That he would leave because he chose to, not because he died. Not because of the curse, but because he didn’t want to stay.

Something about that broke something deep inside of me and I hated myself for admitting it, even just to myself. Hated myself for giving a fuck about Levi, because there was no putting an end to it. Even as angry as I was, I couldn’t deny that Ididcare about Levi No Last Name. It didn’t matter how much I wished I didn’t.

I knew better, and I fucking let myself care anyway.

My vision blurred as I fought to keep the film of tears from becoming a full-blown breakdown. The last thing I wanted was for him to know how much he affected me; how much he’d gotten under my skin—burrowing under there until it felt more like it belonged to him than it did me.

He rubbed his hands up and down my arms and the friction of the contact sparked down my spine, all the way into the soles of my feet. “Mareena.”

With a deep, steady breath, I calmed the storm churning through me, blinking back any trace of emotion. It was a skill I’d mastered years ago, and I’d never been so glad for it as I was now.

I turned around, finding only a foot of distance between us, the reality of his here-ness, his alive-ness impossible to ignore or deny.

“I’m sorry,” he said, and because Ididknow him—fractured as the shards were—I also knew that he meant it. Deeply and intimately and in that annoyingly sincere way that only Levi seemed able to convey. “The very last thing I meant to do was hurt you. It might seem like a lie, but it’s not. I stayed away to protect you. I didn’t even think about the possibility that you might assume I was dead.”

“Well,” my chin quivered, but I bit my lip before I did anything ridiculous like cry, “I’m glad that you’re not, I guess.”

When I let myself glance up, let myself meet his eyes again, my head felt light and dizzy at the depth of his stare—at the unreadable turmoil that I found there.

At the way he looked at me, like it hadn’t been fifteen months but fifteen years—like he was mapping out every inch of my face, recommitting it to memory. Like I wasn’t real, but he was trying to convince himself that I was.

I knew that look, that desperation, because I found myself staring at him the same way.

And then warm, sheer relief shot through my chest at the realization that he was here—a gnarled knot in my stomach, one I realized only now had existed since the morning I found him gone, finally loosened. He was, all things considered, okay. He was alive.

Except here I was caring again, and I didn’t know what to do with that feeling, the impossibility of it, so I just tangled it right back up with hot, righteous rage.

I shook my head. “You know, you can’t just do that. You can’t just look at me like that and say that you’re sorry and exp?—”

But whatever else I was about to say was instantly lost, devoured by the press of his lips against mine.

His kiss was hungry and hot and demanding, and when he pulled me close to him, one hand pressing against my lower back, the other twined through my hair, I sank into it, into him.

I wrapped my arms around his neck, my fingers digging in at the base of his skull, holding him closer, closer, closer—and when my tongue finally traced the seam of his mouth to meet his, a deep, possessive groan vibrated against me.

He tasted like bourbon and dark chocolate, and I couldn’t remember a single kiss that had ever completely unraveled me like this—none that had even come close.

When he pulled back, eyes closed, he pressed his forehead to mine, and I realized that my cheeks were wet.

I didn’t recall crying, but there they were—tears. Over a boy.

“I’m sorry. I just—” With gentle, almost reverent hands, he cupped my face. His eyes were still closed, and there was a soft, sad smile on his lips. Lips that I’d just kissed. Lips that I desperately wanted to kiss again, as angry as I was at the rest of him. “I needed to do that. Just once.”

“You’re leaving again.” I froze, my heartbeat thudding in my ears. “The curse? Is that what you’re worried about? We can go back to the old rules. Diet?—”

He shook his head, his eyes snapping open as they landed on mine. “No. I told you before that I wasn’t afraid of death. If given the choice, I’d choose you over a long life any day of the week.”

“But you’re leaving,” I repeated, my body suddenly numb with the loss as I watched the truth unfold in his stormy stare. “And you’re not coming back. You’re leaving for good this time, aren’t you?”

A muscle worked in his jaw, then an imperceptible nod as I pulled away from his touch.

“Then why did you come back at all?” I asked. My voice cracked, but this time I didn’t bother trying to suffocate the pain. “Why did you spend so much time and energy trying to convince me to be your friend? To make me—” I sucked in a ragged breath. “To just leave all over again.”

“I shouldn’t have,” he said. “But you have to understand, before you—before you, I was lost. I didn’t give a fuck about anything. I was perfectly content to just watch the world crumble around me. And then I met you, and suddenly I found myself wanting to do everything that I could to save it.” He took a slow, deep breath as his eyes searched mine. “I just—I needed to see you one more time, to remember what this was all for.”

“What are you talking about? Whatwhatwas all for? Levi, why—” And then, because I knew in my gut that I wouldn’t get the chance again, I asked the question that had been plaguing my thoughts for more than a year.“What are you?”

Instead of an answer I knew he would never give, he pressed a kiss to my forehead, his lips lingering on my skin for a few breathless moments, before he pulled back far enough to whisper. “Yours. Please take care of yourself, Mareena.”

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