“Take her as a mate?” Her brows go up.

“You know that’s not what I mean.” I clench my fists and pretend this conversation isn’t making me want to hit something…or throw up. Or both.

She sighs heavily. “There is a way.”

“Tell me.”

“Are you sure, Jaxon? Once you do it, there’s no coming back from it. You can’t just fix what’s been torn asunder.”

“I won’t want to fix it.” I grind the words out past clenched teeth.

“You don’t know that.” She waves a hand, and the meadow transforms into Grace’s dorm room. Grace is curled up in bed, reading something off her phone while Macy flits around her. She looks beautiful and fragile, and I want nothing more than to wrap my arms around her. Want nothing more than to protect her from everything…even if that everything includes me. Especially if it does.

“Finding your mate is a precious thing,” the Bloodletter continues. “Finding her so young is even more special. Why would you give that up if you don’t have to?”

“They’re already gunning for her. I don’t know why yet, but she’s a pawn in some plan they have to do God knows what. Overthrow the vampires? Bring about the civil war I’ve worked so hard to stop? Get revenge for what Hudson did? I don’t know. I just know that I can’t let her get hurt because of decisions I made that have nothing to do with her.”

I mean every word I’m saying, but that doesn’t make them hurt any less. I’ve never had anything that was mine in my whole life—my mother saw to that. Yet here Grace is, right in front of me. She’s meant to be mine. And still I can’t afford to reach for her. Not if it means risking something happening to her because of me.

“You know she’ll never be safe in this world. You know they’ll kill her just to make me suffer.”

The Bloodletter waves her hand, and once again, we’re walking in the meadow. I have to bite my lip to keep from begging her to bring Grace back, even as she answers, “I know they’ll try.”

“Eventually they’ll succeed.” I say it as much to remind myself as her. “They always do.”

“Not always.” She gives me an arch look meant to remind me of what happened a year ago. Like I need reminding. “Have a little faith, will you?”

I snort. “In myself?”

“In yourself and your mate.”

“I have all the faith in Grace. But she’s human. Vulnerable.” I think back to the spurting blood, to the deep cuts on her shoulder and her neck. “Breakable.”

She laughs. “We’re all breakable, my boy. Part of being alive.” She points a finger at me. “And your Grace might surprise you, you know.”

“What are you talking about?” I ask. Then, tired of all her riddles and partial advice, I can’t help demanding, “Can’t you just tell me what you mean? Can’t you just tell me what to do?”

“Nobody can tell you want to do, Jaxon. It’s been your greatest strength—and your greatest problem—your entire life. Why change that now?”

Impatience wells up inside me, overwhelming the last of my fake calm. “Damn it! I just need to know how to break the mating bond.”

This time when she smiles, there’s a flash of razor-sharp incisors. “Careful how you speak to me, my boy. Just because I’m fond of you doesn’t mean I won’t drain you for a midwinter meal. You taste quite good if I remember correctly.”

It’s an old threat, one neither of us pays much attention to anymore. But I do shut my mouth because there’s another threat implicit in that one—mainly that she won’t help me after all.

We walk in silence for several minutes, until I’m all but vibrating with a desperate impatience, convinced I’m going to jump out of my skin at any second. Only then does she take hold of my hand.

“This will tell you how to do what you seek,” she says to me, pressing a folded piece of paper into my palm and curling my fingers over it.

I want to ask her where the paper came from, but the truth is, I don’t care. Not now that I have the means to save Grace within my grasp.

“Just be make sure it’s what you really want.” She repeats her earlier warning. “Because once you break what’s between you and Grace, you can’t ever put it back together again.”

It absolutely hurts to hear her say that, to imagine an endless life without my mate. Without Grace. But when the alternative is watching her suffer—and die—so people can get to me, there really is no alternative.

“Thank you,” I tell the Bloodletter, shoving the paper deep into my pocket.

“You’re welcome, my sweet boy.” This time when she lifts her hand, it’s to pat my cheek. “I do love you, you know.”

“I know,” I agree, because in some strange way, it’s true.

“And if even a crusty old vampire like me can love you, I’m pretty sure a girl as strong as Grace can, too.” She winks at me before dropping her hand and stepping away. “Besides, you’re forgetting one thing.”

“What?” I ask, a tiny flare of hope kindling to life inside me despite my best efforts.

“‘There are more things in heaven and Earth, Horatio, / than are dreamt of in your philosophy.’” She takes another step back, transforming into a winged creature I don’t recognize right before my eyes.

And then she flies away, leaving me with the answer I sought and a host of questions I don’t have a clue how to even ask.

Part of me wants to stick around and wait for her so we can talk some more—sometimes she’s willing to do that after she feeds. But the second I walk back toward her main quarters, my phone starts buzzing with a series of texts from Grace and Mekhi.

They come in a mismatched order, though, so I head out of the cave and back into cell service range in an attempt to get the whole story. Which is when they start showing up fast and furious. As I read them, I forget all about waiting for the Bloodletter to return. I forget all about everything except getting to Grace—to my mate—as soon as possible. I need to make sure she’s okay, and I need to make sure that whoever had the nerve to bite her understands just what a terrible life choice they made.

It’s as I’m racing back to Denali that it hits me.

It doesn’t matter who I have to fight to keep her safe. It doesn’t matter what I have to do to hold on to her. Grace is my mate, and there’s no way I’m giving her up. No matter what.

And what a stupid idea anyway—to sever the bond before Grace even knows it exists? This is a choice both of us need to make, and I was a total asshole to ever think otherwise.

Which is why the first thing I do when I get back to Katmere is to reach into my pocket and pull out the note the Bloodletter gave me. I don’t even bother to open it before I tear it up and drop the pieces in the nearest trash can on my way up the stairs.

After all, I have a mate to see to, and nothing is going to stand in the way of that.