My body feels like it weighs six thousand pounds. My ears are mostly deaf now. My lungs quickly suck air in and out, desperate, craving it. When I roll over, every one of my muscles screams in pain.

I push my hair out of my face and blink my eyes open.

I’m blind now, too.

I kind of feel like I need glasses with a really strong prescription.

A dirty ceiling is above me. I feel a lumpy mattress beneath me. And as I roll, I feel a warm body beside me.

With everything I have, I roll toward it.

And there I find Cyrus.

His eyes are still closed, but his breathing suddenly picks up. His nostrils flare just a little bit.

I take in a deep breath.

Nothing. I smell nothing. I can’t smell his blood. I can’t tell if he’s human or vampire. I can’t smell anything.

Because I’m human again.

I’m freaking human.

“Cyrus,” I say as a smile curls on my lips. I prop myself up on one elbow and reach for him with my other hand. I place it on his cheek, caressing his face. “Cyrus, wake up.”

The breath comes harder from his lips, but his eyes don’t open just yet. I pull myself up farther on the bed, and gently, I press my lips to his.

A kiss brought him back once before.

If we’re going to step into this new life together, I want it to start with a kiss.

He lets out a breath, and I can’t tell if it’s filled with pain or desire—maybe both. But his hand comes to my hip, and I can tell it takes every ounce of strength he has to pull me toward him.

Cyrus kisses me, and even this feels different. This feels…real. This feels so grounded to the earth. This feels like the most natural thing ever. Like the entire universe formed so that just the two of us could have this kiss. Logan and Cyrus.

“Logan,” he moans. And I can tell now, he’s definitely in pain. He breaks the kiss, and his eyes squint in agony as his head falls back to the pillow. “Does your body feel like it’s been buried six feet under an entire mountain for two thousand years, as well?”

I laugh. I’m not laughing at him, but I laugh.

“Cyrus,” I say as emotions once more come to my eyes, and they don’t even try to hold on. They slip down my face. “It worked. You’re…we’re human.”

He groans, flopping onto his back, his face contorted with pain. “I forgot. This feels… I forgot what it felt like.”

I roll over. I still hurt. But I feel myself adjusting. Slowly. It’s remembering that this is normal. “It won’t last,” I say gently, brushing my knuckles against his cheek. “Does this feel better?” I lean down and press my lips to his cheek, kissing my way down his jaw. I find his neck.

“Almost,” he says. Once more his hands wrap around me. They slip under my shirt, his skin touching my skin. “I think I’ll be all better in an hour or so.”

I smile wickedly. Even though I’m exhausted, even though I feel like I’m only moving at half speed, I climb onto my knees and carefully straddle his lap. I lean down, coming nearly nose-to-nose with Cyrus. My hair falls down around us, blocking out the light that doesn’t bother my eyes one bit.

“Do you feel it?” I ask, my voice little more than a whisper.

He knows exactly what I’m talking about. I see it in his eyes. “I had forgotten the weight that settled into my chest the moment I took that cure for death,” he says. “I had forgotten the tightness around my heart that has been there ever since I turned you against your will.” He shakes his head. And we both take a deep breath at the same time. “It’s gone.”

I smile and nod. “You did it,” I say softly. “You broke the curses.”

The craving of human blood.

Him never being able to die.

Me having to die over and over.

It began with Cyrus’ choices. They ended with Cyrus’ choices.

“I promised you I would make it right,” he says. He brings a hand up to my face, and softly, so soft and so soul-crushingly tender, he kisses me.

I love this kiss.

I love feeling tired.

I love feeling so utterly mortal.

I hear the footsteps only two seconds before they enter the room. The door pushes open just as I straighten up, but I don’t have time to climb off of Cyrus.

Henry walks into the room. He looks moderately annoyed to find us in the position he does, but he ignores us. He carries two bags that look familiar.

They’re the bags that Cyrus and I brought with all our things.

“The effects of the transformation will wear off in about twelve hours,” he says. He sets the bag down on the desk. “You’ll feel normal, if you even remember what that is, around then.”

He’s wearing all black. He almost looks…tactical. Like he’s about to go out and do some serious spying or maybe some hunting.

“Henry, it worked,” I say, in marvel, telling myself it’s no longer my business what he’s about to go out and do. A smile spreads on my face.

And a tiny one forms on his own. He gives just one nod, looking away briefly as I climb off of Cyrus. My poor husband pulls himself into a sitting position with a lot of pain.

Oh, it hurts to move. I pull myself to sit on the edge of the bed, facing Henry the same as Cyrus. It feels like I spent twenty-four hours at the gym doing the most intense workout imaginable, and now I’m paying for it with my life.

“Every day the world is growing more alien,” Henry says. He once more goes to the window and looks out at the ocean. “There’s now twenty-four hour news coverage of the war happening in Roter Himmel. No one seems to understand it really, none of the Royals have stepped forward to explain. But the world knows it’s important. And they’ve confirmed one thing for us.”

Henry looks back over his shoulder. “Lorenzo St. Claire is still alive.”

My momentary happiness sinks in my stomach like a wet, cold stone.

Henry turns away from the window, blocking out most of the morning light. “I will hold you to your bargain, Cyrus,” he says, staring at the man who is every bit still capable of being a King, but is no longer one of them. “You will walk away from the crown. But first you must return to Roter Himmel and ensure Lorenzo does not continue to take breath after everything he has done.”

I hate all those words. Every one of them.

In my happy vision of the next few days, Cyrus and I would take some time to recover, and then we would disappear into the night. We’d go to Fiji. We’d take that trip we never got to take. We’d take off and live our happily ever after.

We’d get a damn honeymoon.

But the reality is that I knew it wouldn’t be that easy.

I fought for that war in Roter Himmel. I can’t just abandon it.

We have to see this through.

“Lorenzo will die,” Cyrus says, nodding his head. With a lot of effort, he gets to his feet, and he meets Henry, eye to eye. “We will make sure he never takes another breath. And then you will never see or hear from me again. They will never find me, even if they look. I will keep my promise.”

He extends a hand, and after a moment of consideration, Henry shakes it.

“Take a quick shower, get dressed,” he says as he takes a step toward the door. “You two smell like you escaped death. I’m taking you to the airport. You’re going back to Austria in one hour.”