Page 210 of Harbinger

He cups my cheek in his hand, and I finally look at him again. “Stars, you’re beautiful,” he whispers. “Fierce. That’s why I need you to promise me something.”

The way he’s looking at me … I’d promise him anything.

“If the cycle comes, if the fury overtakes me, if we can’t find a way to stop it …” He pauses, but something in his voice has me bracing before he continues. “I won’t be a monster again.”

This is the line he’s drawn. It’s one I can understand. “I know that.”

But he shakes his head. “You don’t. You have no idea what I’m truly capable of.”

I lean forward and press a finger to his lips. “I’m sorry, but that’s bullshit. I know you. I see you.” I turn his own words against him. “This thing between us …”

Something keeps me from saying it, from naming this beautiful pain in my heart. This feeling I’ve only known with him. I know it’s there—planted inside me—but it needs time to grow. Time to see if it grows in him, too. “The way I feel about you …” I tiptoe to the line but can’t quite cross it. “It means you never have to explain your heart to me.”

His nostrils flare slightly as I finally lower the finger silencing him. He pauses, drawing a shuddering breath, and whispers, “Endymion … My name. It’s Endymion.”

The name lands like a confession, as if he’s just placed something precious and dangerous into my hands.

“En-dim-ee-uhn.” I drag each syllable out, smiling slightly at how it sounds on my tongue.

“He’s still here,” he admits, as if he’s committing a crime by being anyone other than Bishop, “but I can’t … The vow isn’t just a cover. It was a choice. Penance.”

Anger flickers through me. Not at him—but at whoever taught him this was the price of being good.

“If it wasn’t …” The longing in his voice steals my breath, and I shift closer without thinking. “If I could give you all of me. If I could trust myself …” But he shakes his head. “I’ve never wanted anything more, but I can’t risk it.”

Something cracks open in my chest, but I nod.

“Keeping my vow was about absolution.” His knuckles skim along my jaw. “Now it’s a shield. A reminder of the man I need to be for you. To protect you. From all of this.” He exhales slowly, and my heart breaks a little more when he adds, “From me.”

“I’m not scared of you.” I slide over and climb into his lap, taking his face between my hands so he can’t look away. “You can’t scare me. In fact, I’m afraid you’re stuck with me.”

The corners of his mouth tug up, and there’s something like awe in his eyes. “Is that so?”

This moment feels too fragile, so I try to lighten it. “Well, I don’t think my brother wants me back.” I shrug like this doesn’t matter. I’d rather be wherever Bishop is, but it still hurts. “And you did tell me your name, so …”

Things are getting serious.

His fingers sink into my hips, and he drags me a little closer. “Now, about that promise. If I lose control, if I lose myself …”

“I’ll find you.” Fear meets the anger still smoldering low inside me and hardens into resolve.

But he continues. “Stop me. You’re the only one who can.”

I pull back just enough to search his eyes, my hands still gripping him like anchors. But I’m no longer tethering him; I’m trying to keep myself from drowning. “I can’t. I won’t be able to.”

“You’re the only one who ever could.”

Sadness floods his eyes as if he’s speaking of a future that’s set in stone. His face settles into the hard lines that tell me he’s already made up his mind. “If it happens, end me. The world won’t survive my birthright if I ever give in again.”

I go completely still, my body trying to decide what to do with this warning.

“No.” I squeeze my eyes shut, like maybe when I open them, we’ll be lying in bed together and it will be morning and all of this will have been a dream. But when I open them, he’s still there. “I can’t.”

“You can.” His mouth twitches as if he’s aiming for a smile. But he misses the mark entirely. “I trained you, remember? You know all the mistakes I make.”

There’s nothing funny about it. I shake my head. “I’ve never won a fight with you.”

And deep down, somewhere that hurts, I know I won’t win this one. That I’d save him no matter the cost.