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He had to see her—make sure this wasn’t just some sort of dream.

Eyes so icy and blue it reminded him of the first frosts.

Hair like spun honey and gold.

Strong arms, tender heart, fiery spirit, and that stubborn tilt to her chin.

You’re real, he wanted to say. You’re real. Not a dream. You’re real.

“I thought maybe—”

Maybe he’d been gone. Maybe the pain had been too much and he’d been swept away by it. Christ, was she brave. She agreed to this unsure of so many things other than her trust in him.

It humbled him. Unraveled him to his very core.

He shook his head, gathering her close. The heat of her bled through her sweater and into his palm.

“It doesn’t matter how far we are, Avery. I will find you. In every life, in every world, my soul will follow yours through the stars.”

He bent his head, touched her chin with a reverence the devout only reserved for their gods, and kissed her.

Heaven and earth collided at the feel of her mouth, the clutch of her fingers, the press of her against him. He’d kissed enough women while he was alive to know how it was done, but none had been like this—a lightning bolt down the length of his spine, the making and unmaking of his heart, the desperate hunger clawing through him.

It would never be enough.

It didn’t matter how close they were, if they were skin against skin and moving together, he could never bind himself enough to her to breathe easily. He needed her in his skin, his blood, his bones.

Avery gasped against his mouth and he swallowed it down, finally able to move and touch and taste in all the ways he wanted. She tasted like her favorite black tea, like the remnants of the chocolate candies she loved so much.

She clutched his shirt, tugging him another step forward. “Inside,” she said against his mouth. “Please.”

He’d meant what he said last night. He would never take from her more than she was willing to give. Crossing over to be with her now didn’t mean they needed to tumble into bed. He’d be content just to hold her, even as every inch of him was burning.

“Home,” she breathed. “Let’s go home.”

It cleaved him in half that Kilmorran was now a place she considered to be home. It’d been his tomb for so long; he’d forgotten what it could be when it was filled with laughter and warmth. She’d brought it back in spades. He used to dread this night. Coming back and stepping into an empty house, so many of the rooms now changed and not as he’d left them. There was nothing here. No fire in the grate. No humming from the kitchen.

Even when he managed to pull himself back into this world, he was still alone.

She stepped away from him, linking their fingers. Her lips were swollen from his, eyes fever-bright. Helpless, he trailed after her, legs moving all on their own. She glanced back at him every few minutes to make sure he was really there.

God himself couldn’t pry him from her now.

Nothing could.

Avery led him inside and shut the door. A rush of heat flooded him. He hadn’t realized he’d been so cold, so frozen and stiff. He sank into it, eyes closed.

“Feels good,” he nearly slurred. “Warm.”

Avery made a sound, half sob, half sigh. “You look—I feel like I’ve never seen you before now.”

“You did,” he answered quietly. “In all the ways that mattered, you did.”

She sucked in a sharp breath, taking another step inside. She coaxed him to follow and he did, like a lamb to slaughter. She stopped right before the fire. From here, he could feel the burn of it. He’d stood closer than this, unable to feel anything at all. Right now, he felt like he was on the cusp of being burned alive.

He let her study him, her pupils blown so wide there was barely any blue left. Her breathing was the only sound in the room, rough and shallow, as she lifted her hand and placed it against his heart. It sang for her, bumping against his ribs like it was trying to break free.

“It’s never been so strong,” he whispered. “I feel like I’ve been running all my life to get to this moment.” Silver filled her lash line. “You did this, Avery. Your will, your belief, your friendship.” He covered his hand with hers. “So many spirits dream of this—hope for it—but rarely get it. Their loved ones remember them, but they don’t—they don’t wish for it. Hope for it, like you’ve done for me.” He kissed her brow. “Never doubt the strength of this,” he murmured, pressing his hand to her heart. “For you have loved me into being.”