Vivienne woke, but didn’t open her eyes or move. She barely had the strength to breath. She picked up the odor of hospital disinfectant.

Her memories came flooding in. The fight with Ricardo, Quick’s injuries, and Adriana.

Quick?

Quick!

Her eyes flew open. She was in an infirmary, on a hospital type bed.

There, Quick’s head resting by her side, his handsome face in repose. Even in his sleep, he as gorgeously haggard with a scruffy chin and messy hair.

Vivienne took a deep breath, letting out a sigh, and a searing pain shot through her chest. Her body seized.

In a flash, Quick awoke and snapped to attention in the chair he’d pulled up to the bed. Noticing she was awake, he sprang to his feet, grabbed her hand, and leaned over her, his face inches from hers.

He took her hand and brushed his fingers along her cheek. “You scared the devil out of me. Thought I—we lost you.”

She smiled. “Can’t get rid of me that easily,” she managed to scratch out from her dry throat.

“I’m glad of that,” he said. He tilted his head down and laid his lips on hers.

The heart monitor suddenly beeped twice as fast.

He pulled away quickly.

A throat cleared from the other side of the room. Her cheeks grew hot.

Maze stood in the doorway, grinning like a kid splashing in a mud puddle. He strolled in and leaned against the bed. “How you feeling, kiddo?”

Her brows scrunched. “Since when am I ‘kiddo’?”

Maze’s smile widened. “Since I carried you to the clinic. Good thing I was in the vicinity when Quick howled. I have to say, neither of you looked too healthy. What happened out there?”

She looked to Quick.

He shrugged. “All I know is some guy shot me with lightning bolts.”

Ricardo? What happened to him?

She had questions. Lots of them. But it would hurt too much to talk.

Maze nodded and headed for the door. “I have lots of stuff to do since I’m filling in for the boss while he takes care of you. I’ll check in later.”

Quick growled at his second-in-command, and Maze released a stream of laughter and closed the door behind him.

What was he talking about? Taking care of her?

Quick turned to her. “He’s never been good about minding his own business.”

She thanked goodness for that, else Quick would have been strung up long ago, had Maze not saved him from being lynched for killing his father.

“I should let you rest. You’re not a shifter. It’s not like you can morph and heal yourself like we do.” His eyes turned sad. “I guess this means you’re probably going to sell the island. I can understand why. We never had any problems before we lost Adriana. It’s like the entire island has been flipped upside down. I don’t know what happened. But you’re safe now. Tiko’s home with his mom and I have a lot of work to do together to get the island back to Adriana’s standards.”

Vivienne thought back to her meeting with Adriana in the cave. She had so much to think about, but first… She swallowed hard. She’d have to talk, no matter how much it hurt. This was important.

“Quick, how did Adriana die?”

His eyes snapped to hers, while he chewed on his lip for a moment.

“It’s my fault. Adriana needed to go to the attorneys’ office for some reason, and she insisted I be the one to take her. She knew I hated going to the mainland, but she wouldn’t let it go.”

Vivienne recalled Adriana’s words in the cave.

“On our way out of the office, someone must’ve recognized me. I’m wanted dead or alive, and I guess they chose dead. A barrage of bullets assaulted us. I got Adriana back to the boat and the island, but before I could get her help, she was gone.” He shook his head. “I should’ve never stepped foot off the island.”

She squeezed his hand, letting him know she was there for him.

“As I held her, she told me she wished to give me the island. She never had children. But whether she wanted that or not, it couldn’t be. Shifters can’t do magic. We both knew I couldn’t be the heir. When she died, a huge piece of me had been ripped out. And then you came along.”

Pushing aside the pain, mental and physical, Vivienne said, “Adriana isn’t gone. The island holds her soul.”

“I don’t understand.”

“You’re not supposed to. It’s— magic.”

It dawned on Vivienne—that was the theme of her entire life.

She never understood why her parents had to die when she was so young, thrusting her out of a safe living and away from friends and school.

She didn’t understand why, when she returned home, her uncle wanted her killed. Or even why had she gotten mixed up with Ricardo and his evilness.

She wasn’t supposed to understand. It was fate. It was magic.

Exhaustion pulled on her mind, but she had one thing she had to tell him.

“Quick, listen to me.”

He squeezed her hand.

“Adriana told me it’s not your fault she died.”

“No,” he murmured, “it is.”

“Listen, you stubborn shifter.” She paused, fatigued from the effort of staying awake and talking. “She said that if she hadn’t died, things would not have happened the right way.”

“You mean she foresaw this? She saw her own death?”

Vivienne didn’t know her eyes closed until she opened them. Didn’t realize she hadn’t answered him until later. Not that she was sure of any of the answers.

Was he gone? She had to tell him one more thing

“Quick?”

Her hand lifted. “I’m here.”

“I’m not selling. I’m staying.”

“What changed your mind?”

Blinking rapidly, she said, “I have a reason to stay, to try.” Her eyes closed.

You.