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Chapter One

'Close your eyes and picture it. Can you see it?'

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I nod, eyes closed.

'Imagine it right there before you. See its texture, shape, and color—got it?' I smile, holding the image in my head.

'Good. Now reach out and touch it. Feel its contours with the tips of your fingers, cradle its weight in thepalms of your hands, then combine all of your senses—sight, touch, smell, taste—can you taste it?' I bite my lip and suppress a giggle.

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'Perfect. Now combine that with feeling. Believe it exists right before you. Feel it, see it, touch it, taste it, accept it, manifest it!' he says.

So I do. I do all of those things. And when he groans, I open my eyes to see for myself.

'Ever.' He shakes his head. 'You were supposed to think of an orange. This isn't even close.'

'Nope, nothing fruity about him.' I laugh, smiling at each of my Damens—the replica I manifested before me, and the flesh and blood version beside me. Both of them equally tall, dark, and so devastatingly handsome they hardly seem real.

'What am I going to do with you?' the real Damen asks, attempting a disapproving gaze but failing miserably. His eyes always betray him, showing nothing but love.

'Hmmm...' I glance between my two boyfriends—one real, one conjured. 'I guess you could just go ahead and kiss me. Or, if you're too busy, I'll ask him to stand in, I don't think he'd mind.' I motion toward manifest Damen, laughing when he smiles and winks at me even though his edges are fading and soon he'll be gone.

But the real Damen doesn't laugh. He just shakes his head and says, 'Ever, please. You need to be serious. There's so much to teach you.'

'What's the rush?' I fluff my pillow and pat the space right beside me, hoping he'll move away from my desk and come join me. 'I thought we had nothing but time?' I smile. And when he looks at me, my whole body grows warm and my breath halts in my throat, and I can't help but wonder if I'll ever get used to his amazing beauty—his smooth olive skin, brown shiny hair, perfect face, and lean sculpted body—the perfect dark yin to my pale blond yang. 'I think you'll find me a very eager student,' I say, my eyes meeting his—two dark wells of unfathomable depths.

'You're insatiable,' he whispers, shaking his head and moving beside me, as drawn to me as I am to him.

'Just trying to make up for lost time,' I murmur, always so eager for these moments, the times when it's just us, and I don't have to share him with anyone else. Even knowing we have all of eternity laid out before us doesn't make me any less greedy. He leans in to kiss me, foregoing our lesson. All thoughts of manifesting, remote viewing, telepathy—all of that psychic business replaced by something far more immediate, as he pushes me back against a pile of pillows and covers my body with his, the two of us merging like crumbled vines seeking the sun. His fingers snake under my top, sliding along my stomach to the edge of my bra as I close my eyes and whisper, 'I love you.' Words I once kept to myself. But after saying it the first time, I've barely said anything else.

Hearing his soft muffled groan as he releases the clasp on my bra, so effortlessly, so perfectly, nothing awkward or fumbling about it. Every move he makes is so graceful, so perfect, so—Maybe too perfect.

'What's wrong?' he asks, as I push him away. His breath coming in short shallow gasps as his eyes seek mine, their surrounding skin tense and constricted in the way I've grown used to.

'Nothing's wrong.' I turn my back and adjust my top, glad I completed the lesson on shielding my thoughts since it's the only thing that allows me to lie.

He sighs and moves away, denying me the tingle of his touch and the heat of his gaze as he paces before me. And when he finally stops and faces me, I press my lips together, knowing what's next. We've been here before.

'Ever, I'm not trying to rush you or anything. Really, I'm not,' he says, his face creased with concern. 'But at some point you're going to have to get over this and accept who I am. I can manifest anything you desire, send telepathic thoughts and images whenever we're apart, whisk you away to Summerland at a moment's notice. But the one thing I can't ever do is change the past. It just is.'

I stare at the floor, feeling small, needy, and completely ashamed. Hating that I'm so incapable of hiding my jealousies and insecurities, hating that they're so transparent and clearly displayed. Because no matter what sort of psychic shield I create, it's no use. He's had six hundred years to study human behavior (to study my behavior), versus my sixteen. 'Just—just give me a little more time to get used to all this,' I say, picking at a frayed seam on my pillowcase. 'It's only been a few weeks.' I shrug, remembering how I killed his exwife, told him I loved him, and sealed my immortal fate, less than three weeks ago. He looks at me, his lips pressed together, his eyes tinged with doubt. And even though we're merely a few feet apart, the space that divides us is so heavy and fraught—it feels like an ocean.

'I'm referring to this lifetime,' I say, my voice quickening, rising, hoping to fill up the void and lighten the mood. 'And since I can't recall any of the others, it's all I have. I just need a little more time, okay?' I smile nervously, my lips feeling clumsy and loose as I hold them in place, exhaling in relief when he sits down beside me, lifts his fingers to my forehead, and seeks the space where my scar used to be.

Chapter One

“Everything is energy.”

Damen’s dark eyes focus on mine, urging me to listen, really listen this time. “Everything around us—” His arm sweeps before him, tracing a fading horizon that’ll soon fade to black. “Everything in this seemingly solid universe of ours isn’t solid at all—it’s energy—pure vibrating energy. And while our perception may convince us that things are either solid or liquid or gaseous—on the quantum level it’s all just particles within particles—it’s all just energy.”

I press my lips together and nod, his voice overpowered by the one in my head urging: Tell him! Tell him now! Quit stalling, and just get it over with! Hurry, before he starts talking again!

But I don’t. I don’t say a word. I just wait for him to continue so I can delay even further.

“Raise your hand.” He nods, palm out, moving toward mine. Lifting my arm slowly, cautiously, determined to avoid any and all physical contact when he says, “Now tell me, what do you see?”

I squint, unsure what he’s after, then shrugging I say, “Well, I see pale skin, long fingers, a freckle or two, nails in serious need of a manicure...”

“Exactly.” He smiles, as though I just passed the world’s easiest test. “But if you could see it as it really is, you wouldn’t see that at all. Instead you’d see a swarm of molecules containing protons, neutrons, electrons, and quarks. And within those tiny quarks, down to the most minuscule point, you’d see nothing but pure vibrating energy moving at a speed slow enough that it appears solid and dense, and yet quickly enough that it can’t be observed for what it truly is.”

I narrow my eyes, not sure I believe it. Never mind the fact that he’s been studying this stuff for hundreds of years.

“Seriously, Ever. Nothing is separate.” He leans toward me, fully warmed up to his subject now. “Everything is one. Items that appear dense, like you and I, and this sand that we’re sitting on, are really just a mass of energy vibrating slowly enough to seem solid, while things like ghosts and spirits vibrate so quickly they’re nearly impossible for most humans to see.”

“I see Riley,” I say, eager to remind him of all the time I used to spend with my ghostly sister. “Or at least I used to, you know, before she crossed the bridge and moved on.”

“And that’s exactly why you can’t see her anymore.” He nods. “Her vibration is moving too fast. Though there are those who can see past all of that.”

I gaze at the ocean before us, the swells rolling in, one after another. Endless, unceasing, immortal—like us.

“Now raise your hand again and bring it so close to mine we just nearly touch.”

I hesitate, filling my palm with sand, unwilling to do it. Unlike him, I know the price, the dire consequences the slightest skin-on-skin contact can bring. Which is why I’ve been avoiding his touch since last Friday. But when I peer at him again, his palm out, waiting for mine, I take a deep breath and lift my hand too—gasping when he draws so close the space that divides is razor thin.

“Feel that?” He smiles. “That tingle and heat? That’s our energy connecting.” He moves his hand back and forth, manipulating the push and pull of the energy force field between us.

“But if we’re all connected like you say, then why doesn’t it all feel the same?” I whisper, drawn by the undeniable magnetic stream that links us, causing the most wonderful warmth to course through my body.

“We are all connected, all of us made of the same vibrating source. But while some energy leaves you cold and some leaves you lukewarm, the one that you’re destined for? It feels just like this.”

I close my eyes and turn, allowing the tears to stream down my cheeks, no longer able to keep them in check. Knowing I’m barred from the feel of his skin, the touch of his lips, the solid warm comfort of his body on mine. This electric energy field that trembles between us is the closest I’ll get, thanks to the horrible decision I made.

“Science is just now catching up with what metaphysicians and the great spiritual teachers have known for centuries. Everything is energy. Everything is one.”

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I can hear the smile in his voice as he draws closer, eager to entwine his fingers with mine. But I move away quickly, catching his eye just long enough to see the look of hurt that crosses his face—the same look he’s been giving me since I made him drink the antidote that returned him to life. Wondering why I’m acting so quiet, so distant, so remote—refusing to touch him when just a few weeks before I couldn’t get enough. Incorrectly assuming it’s because of his hurtful behavior—his flirting with Stacia, his cruelty toward me—when the truth is, it has nothing to do with that. He was under Roman’s spell, the entire school was. It wasn’t his fault.

What he doesn’t know is that while the antidote returned him to life, the moment I added my blood to the mix it also ensured we could never be together.

Never.

Ever.

For all of eternity.

“Ever?” he whispers, voice deep and sincere. But I can’t look at him. Can’t touch him. And I certainly can’t utter the words he deserves to hear:

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I messed up—I’m so sorry—Roman tricked me, and I was desperate and dumb enough to fall for his ploy—And now there’s no hope for us because if you kiss me, if we exchange our DNA—you’ll die—