Chapter 167
Sebastian
"Brother," I said, turning to address the photograph while still holding Lirael close. "This is Lirael. She's the reason I walked away from Father. She's everything I never knew I needed." I paused. "She hasn't given up on me being a monster."
Lirael's arms tightened around me. "And I'm going to spend whatever time we have proving that choosing love over duty isn't death," she said to the grave.
I knelt fully, pressing my forehead against the cold stone. Then I knocked three times—once for the brother I'd loved, once for the future he'd never gotten, and once for the choice I was making now.
When I stood, Lirael was watching me with an expression that made my chest tight. "Thank you," she said softly. "For bringing me here."
"Thank you for understanding why I had to."
I drove us out of the city, following roads that wound up into the hills. Lirael didn't ask where we were going, just kept her hand on my thigh and watched the landscape change. Shadow had somehow sensed we were leaving again and had leaped into the back seat.
The overlook came into view as we crested the final hill—a small clearing at the edge of a cliff. I'd discovered this place years ago, back when I'd needed somewhere to think, somewhere to breathe.
I parked and led Lirael to the edge, where a natural stone outcropping created a kind of seat. The view was spectacular—miles of forest stretching out below, the city visible in the distance.
"This is where Derek used to come," I said, settling onto the stone and pulling her down beside me. "Before the entropy got bad. He'd sit here for hours with his violin."
Lirael leaned against me, her head resting on my shoulder. "It's beautiful."
"He thought so too." I wrapped my arm around her. "He told me once that this was the only place he felt free. That up here, away from Father and the pack and all the rules, he could just exist."
"Is that why you brought me here?" she asked quietly.
"I brought you here because I need to have a conversation I don't want to have," I said honestly. "Because I need to tell you things that are going to scare you, and I need you to understand what you're really signing up for."
She pulled back to look at me. "Then tell me. No more protecting me from hard truths. Tell me what I need to know."
I took a breath. "The entropy is worse than I've let you see. I'm losing time—minutes, sometimes hours where I can't account for what I was doing. My control is slipping in ways that terrify me. I walked away from my father's suppressant knowing I probably have three days at most before I lose myself entirely."
I felt her tense against me, but she didn't interrupt.
"And I need you to understand—I'm not being noble. I'm being realistic. The entropy is going to kill me, Lirael. Maybe not today, maybe not this week, but soon. And when it does—when I start to lose myself the way Derek did—I need you to promise me something."
"What?" Her voice had gone very quiet.
"That you'll do what I did for him," I said, forcing the words out. "That you'll grant me that mercy before I become something that would destroy us both."
"No." The word came out flat and absolute. "No, I won't promise that."
"Lirael—"
"No," she repeated, pulling away to face me fully. "You're not going to lose yourself, you're not going to turn into a monster, and you're sure as hell not going to make me complicit in giving up on you."
"I'm not asking you to give up," I said carefully. "I'm asking you to—"
"To what? To be ready to kill you if things get bad?" Her eyes blazed. "That's not love, Sebastian. That's not partnership. That's you trying to control how this ends because you're terrified of losing control."
The words hit like a slap, and I realized she was right. I was trying to manage the outcome, trying to ensure that even in death I'd maintain some semblance of dignity. Trying to protect her, yes, but also trying to protect myself from the vulnerability of letting her see me at my worst.
"You're right," I admitted. "I'm scared. I'm terrified of becoming what Derek became, of hurting you, of—"
"Then let me be scared with you," she interrupted, catching my hands. "Let me fight beside you instead of preparing for your death. Let me be your partner in this, not your executioner."
I stared at her. "Okay," I said finally. "Okay. We'll fight. We'll try everything. But Lirael—if it comes down to it—"
"Then we'll face that choice together," she said firmly. "Not you making decisions for both of us. Together."
Together. The word had become a vow.
Thunder rumbled in the distance. I looked up to see dark clouds rolling in from the west.
"We should go," Lirael said, glancing at the sky. "Before we get caught in—"
"No," I said, an idea forming that was probably stupid but felt absolutely necessary. "Stay. There's something I need to do first."
"In a thunderstorm?"
"Especially in a thunderstorm," I said, standing and pulling her to her feet. "I need you to understand what you mean to me. Need you to know that choosing you wasn't just about principle—it was about this, about us."
She stared at me, clearly trying to figure out what I was planning, and then her eyes widened. "Sebastian, we are not having sex on a cliff in a thunderstorm."
"Why not?" I pulled her closer, feeling the first drops of rain. "We're already soaked, we're already breaking every rule, we're already choosing each other over common sense. Might as well make it memorable."
"You're insane," she said, but I saw the smile tugging at her lips.
"Probably," I agreed. "But I'm your insane. And I need this, Lirael. Need to show you how much you mean to me—"
She kissed me, cutting off whatever speech I'd been building to, and I tasted rain and desperation on her lips. The storm broke properly then, rain coming down in sheets, and I pulled her toward the car—not to leave, but to the back seat .
And then it was just us, rain drumming on the roof, thunder rolling across the valley, and Lirael in my arms looking at me like I was worth saving.
"I love you," I said again. "And whatever happens—whatever the entropy does—I need you to know that choosing you was the best decision I ever made."
"Then show me," she said, her hands already working at my shirt buttons. "Show me what I'm fighting for."
So I did.
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