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“I’m going to fix this. I’ll find a way to break the curse or block it. There must be something in the coven archives that Mother missed. A counterspell, a loophole, a...”

“Carolina.”

“There is always a way.”

I caught her hand, though my grip was weak and trembling. “Your mother made sure there wasn’t.”

“You don’t know that.”

“She’s too powerful.”

“Then I’ll find someone who can help. Mack. Dean. Someone in town must know something.”

“This might be the end.”

“Don’t say that.” The tears finally escaped, streaming down her cheeks. “Don’t you dare say that. I won’t let her win. I won’t let her destroy you.”

“She already has.”

Carolina stared at me, grief and rage battling across her face. Beneath both was something fiercer than either.

Determination.

“No,” she said quietly. “She hasn’t. I’m still here. I still love you, and that means something. It has to mean something.”

She pulled out her phone and called Mack.

He answered almost immediately.

“It’s Logan,” she said. “Something is wrong. I need help.”

She listened for a moment.

“His apartment. Hurry.”

Carolina ended the call, climbed carefully onto the couch, and gathered me into her arms. I was too weak to resist and far too selfish to try. I rested my head against her shoulder and let her warmth seep into my cold skin.

“I love you,” she whispered into my hair. “Curse and all. Broken and all. I love you, Logan Richards, and I’m not leaving.”

I closed my eyes as the bond between us flickered and flared, fighting against the darkness devouring me.

It wasn’t enough to break the curse.

Not yet.

But it kept me conscious. Kept the bond alive. Made me want to fight when surrender would have been so much easier.

“We’ll figure this out,” she said. “Together. Whatever it takes. Whatever she does, we face it together.”

“Together,” I whispered.

I finally believed we might survive the damned thing.

The pounding on the ruined doorframe started twenty minutes later.

“If that’s your mother,” I murmured, “tell her I’m dead.”

“Technically...”