To my surprise, the Domus has been vacated. I'm not gullible enough to be believe they're gone.

They're biding their time. I don't have anywhere else to go. I've begun staying in the Domus. It's strange that the whispers are gone. It's the reason I kept coming back, to be near the souls of those who passed. I secretly hoped that my grandmother's voice would be among them, but after a certain point, I realize it just isn't.

The quiet should soothe me, like it used to. But it doesn't anymore.

David's proclamation slid through me like a knife. I know he wouldn't hold me to it. I could go back and he'd welcome me, make me promise not to do it again. I want to go back to him. It's the thing I want more than anything right now.

It's not practical.

We were always worried that he would hurt me but it's irony that I'm the one who hurts him. I didn't mean to hurt him but now I can't stop. It's not the easier choice by any means. A few years ago, this would have been the easy way out but now it feels like torture. I've never truly been a fan of doing the right thing, especially when it harms me. This time it's a wound.

I try to take Lucas' words into account but it's a blur at the moment. The last four days keeps replaying in my head like a bad movie. I've been here for a day and a half, trying to come up with some kind of offense. Portia was right about Hecate being vain and not being the smartest deity. She' consumed by love.

Irony.

I slam the grimoire shut and throw my head into my hands. This is useless! There's no way to beat a Goddess. It's suicide. It's genocide. It's matricide.

I look up as the door bursts open and a large wolf bounds into the Domus. The wolf drops a bottle at my feet and I roll my eyes.

"Seriously?" I ask.

I watch with curiosity as the wolf morphs into a man, David. He stands there, nude, before bending down to pick up the bottle. He unclasps the bottle and hands it to me. I stare at the bottle before taking it from him.

"You shouldn't be here." I say angrily.

The truth is that I'm happy to see him. Seeing him naked is a plus.

"How'd you get past the wards?" I ask as I pop the top off the bottle. I choke down two pills and slide them back into my bag, "Doesn't much matter, does it?"

David doesn't speak. I can see the anger on his face and I can tell that he's trying to manage it. He knows that his anger sometimes frightens me. He's trying not to send me running into a bush.

"So much for not being able to come back, huh?" I joke.

"This fun to you?" He asks.

"Fun?" I chuckle, "Yes, this is fun. I'm having fits of laughter. It's one big shitfest of laughter!"

I see how he's staring at me and it causes me to take a breath. I can't have word diarrhea with him. If I say the wrong thing, he'll catch it. I can't show vulnerability with him and the more emotion I feel, the worse it'll be to deter him.

"I'm your husband. You don't—"

"Have to do this alone? Did you miss my speech?"

"No, but when you ramble, I tend to nap." He snaps, "You're not this stupid. You can't be this stupid! We work best as a team, whether it's you and me or us and everyone else."

"You don't get it."

"Stop it, Perry! Stop fucking giving me the martyr routine! Did you forget that I was there? I've been here since the very beginning. From the horror you had when Lucas killed Zack, to the broken person who came back." He steps forward, "I'm not going anywhere."

"I left. I cannot come back."

"You know that wouldn't bind you to that. I love you without bounds."

"Maybe that's the problem. Maybe you shouldn't."

"It's irrelevant because—" David growls and turns away from him. I can see that he's beyond frustrated with me. When he turns back around, his face is unreadable, "I really wish that I could not love you less sometimes. It's doesn't matter what we want anymore. You don't have one destiny, you have two or more. One of those destinies is with me. The sooner you accept that, the less complicated your life will be. Face it, there's no version of destiny that pulls us apart. I'm here until the end."

"If the rules were reversed, if you were the grand-werewolf daddy of Salem and I was a normal person, or even a normal witch, wouldn't you fight to save me?"

David shrugs, "Would you let me?" He asks.

"Dying doesn't scare me anymore. I don't know if it ever did. I just—I have things to live for now. Dying is easy, it's inevitable. Living is the scary part. Living without my friends or without my father...without you..."

"I'm here, right now."

"Have you ever thought that maybe getting lost in the darkness isn't something I want you or anyone to see?"

"Yes, it's a constant thought."

"And?"

"And I don't care." He walks over and sits on the couch by the fire, "Good fire. New meaning to roasting chestnuts though."

"This doesn't end the argument."

"Yeah, it actually does. We have dysfunctional families and matching dysfunctions. This isn't something new. So, if you're going to go dark, I'll be right here next to you, telling you how beautiful your veins are."

"You're so—"

"Frustrating? Annoying isn't it?" David smirks to me, "Now, are we going to figure this out together or do I have to resort to sexin?"

"When your beauty fades, we might have a problem."

es__%2FZ3_�4�(