Ren drew up short, his face paling.

“You see? You can’t love someone who did that. You can’t be with me, knowing what I am, knowing what I’ve done!” Tears burned my throat and eyes. “I hurt a woman. I know I did. I might’ve—oh God, I might’ve even killed her. I don’t know. I didn’t even know I could do that, but I did. I did it, and I hurt her and she tried to make me stop, and I couldn’t. And I could do it to you.”

Something flickered over his face, an emotion that was damn near feral. “You would never do that to me.”

I fisted the side of my robe. “You don’t know that.”

“Did you feed of your own free will or did he manipulate you into doing it?”

“Does it matter?”

“Yes!” he shouted. “That fucking matters, Ivy.”

Looking away, I bit down on my lip. “He forced me.”

“Son of a bitch!” he exploded again, and I turned to him. His hands were in fists at his sides. “He forced you to feed. He fucked your head up. That’s totally understandable, but he forced you, Ivy. You didn’t have a choice, and the Ivy I know, the Ivy I first found sexy as hell every time she told me off, and the Ivy I grew to respect and fucking admire—the Ivy I fell head over fucking ass in love with would never do that without being forced. So don’t put that on you. Don’t wear that kind of guilt.”

I opened my mouth, but he . . . he was right. God, Ren was right. I knew who I was. That Ivy was still inside me—under the coldness and the darkness, she was still there. I would’ve never fed on anyone if I had a choice, but I hadn’t had one. This was different now, though. Before, I hadn’t known I could feed, but I could, and it was horrifically simple. All I had to do was want it and inhale.

Fear formed in my stomach, settling like a heavy knot, and I let go of my robe. “But what if I hurt you?” I whispered. Tears blurred my vision. “I could never live with myself. That would be it. That’s my breaking point.”

Ren was wicked fast.

Clasping my cheeks, he lowered his mouth to mine and kissed me with not a moment of hesitation or doubt. He wasn’t careful, and there was no fear in his kiss. His mouth parted mine, and it was hungry and desperate, raw and tortured, and full of a thousand other emotions, but most importantly, it was full of love. Then I was kissing him back, my fingers grabbing the front of his shirt. One of his hands left my cheek and fisted my hair. And I knew this wasn’t going to turn into something twisted. I didn’t want that from him. I didn’t want that from anyone.

I just wanted him.

Ren loved me.

He was in love with me.

Oh God, the kiss tasted like him—like toothpaste and Ren—and he was warm, every part of him. His hands, his lips, his tongue. This was him kissing me. This was him loving me. This wasn’t lust and this wasn’t a trick. I knew that in my core, in my very bones, and in my soul.

He pulled back, breathing heavily. “You would never hurt me. Never. It’s not because I love you. It’s because you love me.”

I stared up at him and then . . . then the worst possible thing happened. Or the best possible thing. I started to speak, but a sob came out, the messy kind, and the tears I’d been holding back for what felt like forever burst free.

Somehow we made it to the floor in front of the bed. I don’t even know how, but I was half in his lap, half sitting on the floor, and our arms were around each other. He held me like he had never expected to do it again.

I had never expected him to.

“It’s okay,” he said, arms tight around me. “It’s okay.”

Ren kept saying that, over and over. And I wanted it to be okay. I wanted to explore the ray of light his words had created. I wanted to focus on the fact that against all odds, despite everything, Ren loved me, and I loved him, and we were together. We were in each other’s arms, and there was something so powerful about that, but there was a lot of darkness in me, a lot of coldness, and a lot that Ren didn’t know.

But he knew enough and he still . . . he was still here, and he was still holding me. Ren still loved me.

Hands clenching his shirt, I pressed my face against his chest, inhaling the fresh outdoorsy scent that always clung to him. I cried and my entire body shook with the force of my tears. My cheeks were soaked. The front of his shirt was damp, but I couldn’t stop crying. The tears were for him and everything he’d gone through, what he’d suffered. The tears were for Val, and there was still a well of grief for her that I realized in that moment I hadn’t even fully tapped into. I cried for the woman I’d fed on.

And I cried for me.

I sobbed for everything I’d seen and the things I’d been told. For what I had to sacrifice to get Ren out of there and just keep my head above water. I cried for everything I’d been forced to do, and I knew it would be a long time before the ghost of those actions stopped haunting me.

And those tears came from the dark, cold place inside me that his words, those three beautiful words, had begun to thaw and shine light upon.

Chapter Thirty-Two

My body gave out at some point, and I passed out on the floor, curled up between Ren’s legs and against his chest. I vaguely remember him putting me to bed, and he stayed next to me for a long time. I knew this because I woke in the middle of the night and didn’t recognize the room.

Panic exploded through me like buckshot, and I shot straight up in bed. For a horrible series of seconds, I thought I was back in the other bedroom, locked away and waiting for the prince to show. I’d reached for my neck, feeling for the metal collar.