Prologue

LAINEY

W e're dying from the moment we're born, Grandfather told me not long after my fourteenth birthday. I can't even remember what prompted the comment. It could have been anything really. That had been a difficult year for us. Grandmother had been getting sicker, she'd been forgetting more. Watching the light go out in her eyes haunted me.

Worse, watching the light in Grandfather's eyes as hers dimmed. "We're dying from the moment we're born, sweet girl. You have to remember that. You have to remember that we only get pieces of the people we love. A sliver of their life, a partial print of their soul, the gift of their time. Never mistake time for anything but a gift."

My heart broke for him. He loved her so fiercely and the feeling had been deeply mutual. Some days, she acted like they were young again, even teased him about being her boyfriend. Other days, she stared through him as if she couldn't quite imagine who he was.

"Those pieces," Grandfather told me. "They kindle the fire in us. We keep each other warm. Over the years, your grandmother has been there for me when my temper was too much or my judgment too harsh. She kept me stable, she helped me find a better way. I've never been an easy man."

The wistfulness and pragmatism were so much a part of him that I couldn't imagine Grandfather being any other way.

"Your grandmother told me over and over, she never asked for easy. She never wanted it. She only wanted me. So yes, this is difficult. But I'm not asking for easy, I'm asking for her and every moment we can have. Some candles… they go out slowly, guttering bit by bit until they extinguish."

I heard what he wasn't saying. The unspoken truths sliding under his words. The ferocious love he had for her.

"Your grandmother loved me in spite of my flaws," Grandfather said. "She made me more human. She kept me honest. She gave me something to fight for… and I wouldn't be your grandfather without her."

He loved her so much. I couldn't imagine loving someone that much. Not at fourteen. Probably not at sixteen either. I'd loved Adam and Ezra for a long time by then, but was I in love with them?

I had no idea. Their light always seemed to smother mine. Their darkness shrouded me and isolated me as much as it protected me. Did they care? Yes. But Adam had been right.

I'd been too young to fully grasp it all. I still needed to grow and to learn and to become myself.

Now? I understood my grandparents on a level I never thought possible. My grandfather would tear the world apart for her, and he'd build it back up again. All she ever had to do was ask.

He had one woman. I have four men.

There's nothing I won't do for them. If we have to destroy everything in our path to make our future happen… it will be a pleasure to burn.