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“I brought food,” I said, holding up a bag I didn’t remember packing. “And books. And I... I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

He stared at me like I was a ghost. Like I was a miracle. Like I was something he didn’t dare believe was real.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he said, but he stepped aside to let me in.

“I know.”

“Your mother...”

“Is probably turning my bedroom inside out looking for me.” I walked into his apartment, taking in the sparse furniture, the stacks of books, the single window facing the brick wall of the building next door. “She’s furious. I’ve never seen her this angry.”

“Then you should go back. Apologize. Make it right.” His voice was gentle, resigned. “I don’t want you to suffer because of me.”

I turned to face him, and the bond flared between us, bright and undeniable. “I’m tired of making things right with her, Logan. I’m tired of being the perfect daughter, the perfect witch, the perfect heir to a coven that crushes people for making mistakes.”

He was quiet for a long moment. Then: “You called her a monster.”

“I did.” The memory still made my hands shake. “And she is. She’s cruel and vindictive, and she uses her power to hurt people who can’t fight back. I knew that. I just kept telling myself I couldn’t do anything about it.”

“Why now?”

I set the bag on his small kitchen table, my movements careful and precise. “Because of you. Because when I’m with you, I don’t have to pretend. I don’t have to be perfect. I can just...” I laughed, a bitter sound. “I can just be clumsy and scared and human.”

“You’re not clumsy.”

“I am, though.” I turned back to him, meeting his eyes. “Not physically. But emotionally? Socially? I’ve spent my whole life trying not to make mistakes, not to embarrass her, not to be...” I hesitated. “Not to be weak. Because she hates weakness.”

Logan crossed the room slowly, his steps careful and deliberate because the curse made every movement a calculation. He stopped in front of me, close enough that I could smell him: cold skin and old books and something uniquely him.

“You’re not weak,” he said quietly. “Standing up to her tonight? That was the strongest thing I’ve ever seen.”

“She’s going to punish me. You know that, right? She’s going to make us both pay for what I did.”

“I know.”

“And you’re not scared?”

He smiled, and it transformed his face, making him look young and alive and unguarded. “I’m terrified. But I’m also...” He reached out, his hand hovering near mine. “I’m also happier than I’ve been in a year. Because you chose me. Because you saw me.”

I took his hand. His fingers were cold, but the warmth of the bond more than compensated. “I see you,” I said softly. “I see who you really are. Not the curse. Not the clumsiness. You.”

We stood there in his small apartment, holding hands, and I felt something shift inside me. The careful walls I’d built, the perfect facade I’d maintained, they were cracking. And beneath them, something real was emerging.

Something that wanted this. Wanted him. Wanted a life that wasn’t dictated by my mother’s approval.

“I should go,” I whispered, even though I didn’t want to. “Before she sends someone to find me.”

“Will you come back?”

The longing in his voice broke my heart. “Yes. I don’t know when. I don’t know how. But yes.”

I left before I could change my mind, before I could beg him to run away with me, before I could do something truly reckless like kiss him again.

But I came back the next night. And the night after that.

The second night, I brought him blood from the coven’s stores. It was fresh and warm, sealed inside a narrow black bottle that made the offering look far more romantic than a stolen meal had any right to be. I also brought two books on vampire history and a charm meant to keep nightmares from sinking their claws too deeply into sleep.

Logan accepted the bottle with both hands. “You know, most women bring wine when they visit a man’s apartment.”