26. Toby

Blaise slammed into me before I could get to my feet, sending us both sprawling back into the dirt.

"It's okay," I wheezed, getting my legs out from under me and wrapping them around his waist. "I'm okay. We're okay."

"We nearly weren't," he said hoarsely against my neck. "Fuck, Tobes. That was too close. I couldn't save you."

"Hey." I tugged on his hair until he lifted his head. His red-rimmed eyes met mine, full of a sorrow I'd hoped never to see again. "You tried, that's what counts."

He stiffened and cut his gaze away. "Trying isn't enough, not when what I'm trying to do is save you."

Something in my heart cracked as Blaise pulled away, getting to his feet and striding over to the angel. He shook his hand briskly, thanking him for intervening.

I stayed on the floor, trying not to panic. This wasn't going to make Blaise shut down…right?

The fault line behind Noah crackled, making him and Blaise spin. A portal had appeared from Hell. Light crackled around the angel's hands while fire wreathed Blaise's as they waited to see who stepped through. I leapt up to join them, but the adrenaline left my body as two familiar figures stepped through.

"Thank fuck," Blaise whispered, falling to his knees. "Thank fuck."

Bailey shoved at Harlow, forcing the demon to release him. Striding over to Blaise, he clapped him on the shoulder. "Blaise? Buddy, I'm fine. We won. Are you okay?"

Blaise didn't respond, his whole body vibrating. Bailey shot me a pleading look that got my feet moving. Going up behind Blaise, I cupped the back of his neck. "Look up, boy."

He responded, his hands falling to his knees as he looked up at Bailey. He choked out the words I'd been expecting. "I'm sorry."

"Stop it. Right now," Bailey said kindly. "I'm safe. You fought to save me repeatedly, against Lucifer. You have literally nothing to apologise for."

"Bailey's right," Harlow said, stepping up to Bailey's side and extending his hand. "We owe you our thanks."

I held my breath as Blaise hesitated. Then he accepted Harlow's hand and allowed himself to be tugged upwards. Before his next breath, he was being enveloped by both Harlow and Bailey.

Now Blaise was the one looking at me helplessly. Touch starved though he was, he didn't seem used to accepting affection from anyone.

Well, anyone other than me, that was.

Fuck, that shouldn't have made me feel as good as it did. I should have wanted Blaise to find happiness in all the places, and I did, but I also wanted to be the place where it was guaranteed. The person he knew he could count on. Could turn to. Could trust.

Would he allow me to be that after today? Or would his fear stop us building something more permanent?

And there's the curse, my brain helpfully piped up. Who knows what effect that's going to have on you both.

That was true. Right now, Blaise had no idea he'd been stabbed with a cursed weapon, or that I'd been the one to pull it from him.

I could only imagine how well that would go down.

It was many hours later. We were at Blaise's house, quietly moving around the bedroom.

Blaise had been almost silent since he'd spoken to Bailey, only speaking to his twin as he stepped through the portal. It hadn't been long before all the demons and their mates had passed through, along with several other demons who'd apparently made a deal with the humans in Hell.

When Sebastian stepped through, apparently unharmed, a knot I hadn't realised existed came undone. I'd tried to approach him, tried to see if he was alright, but all I got for my efforts was a sneer and a "Fuck off."

Now it was hours later, and Blaise had still yet to speak. Knowing he was processing things, I'd decided to give him some space, but enough was enough. I suspected that everything that had happened had set him back a way, and the last thing I wanted was for him to get lost in the darkness.

"Strip," I told him, unbuckling my own belt. "I want you on your knees, boy."

To my surprise, Blaise did neither. "Why?"

I kept my mask in place, but internally, a thread of panic was beginning to unwind. This didn't feel like Blaise's usual bratting. His question was too hollow. Too quiet. "Because I'm your master, and I'm giving you an order."

I was tense, wondering if Blaise would safe-word. He didn't though, just blew out a frustrated breath before undoing his tattered shirt. I'd been planning on us showering, but I needed to centre Blaise before we did anything else.

His hands froze on the second-to-last button, all the blood draining from his face.

Alarmed, I stepped closer. "Blaise? What's wrong?"

He was ripping at his shirt now, his big hands on his stomach. I looked to see what was causing such panic, and what I saw made my stomach flip.

There was a gnarly scar right where the sword had punched through his abdomen. The skin was white and twisted, as though the injury had happened years ago, instead of hours before.

"The sword was cursed." Blaise's voice was frantic, the heat in the room shooting up. "Toby, who touched it?"

I ignored his question, blood thundering in my ears. "Wait, how do you know it was cursed?"

He waved at his face impatiently. "Cursed weapons are the only things that leave scars. I got this back in a fight with a demon seventy years ago."

A glimmer of hope flickered. If Blaise had been cursed before, he must know how to heal it.

"Seventy years ago? How did you heal the curse?"

"I didn't need to." Blaise pulled at his hair in frustration. "Fire magic kills curses. They don't work on fire mages or demons. But if you or one of the others touched it…"

I froze as I processed that information. Blaise wasn't cursed. He was fine. He was going to be okay.

He cupped my face, tears brimming in his eyes. "Please, Tobes. Please tell me you didn't touch it. Please tell me one of the demons pulled it out. I couldn't live with myself if you were cursed because of me."

"It wouldn't be your fault."

My words didn't register.

"Please, Toby. Just tell me. Did you touch it? Are you cursed? Oh, god…"

Blaise was breaking apart. All of his hard work was coming undone. How could I tell him I was cursed and not have him blame himself for it? How could I keep him by my side while I searched for an answer without the guilt eating him alive?

I did the only thing I could think of.

I lied.

"No one touched it." I smiled at him in a way I hoped was reassuring. "It was on the floor. I guess the demon who stabbed you pulled it out himself after you died."

Blaise sagged forwards in relief, his forehead resting against my shoulder. "Thank fuck. I couldn't cope if it was you or River. I just couldn't. I'm sorry."

I knew I'd done the right thing, but at the same time, I couldn't help but wonder what this would mean for us. It was selfish, I knew. Blaise's mental health had to come above my own needs. I couldn't tell him I wanted more from him with this cloud hanging over me. How could I search for a cure for the curse without telling him what I was doing?

And what if I couldn't find a cure, what then? There was no way I could mate with Blaise, not when my death would take his immortality too. And how would Blaise feel, watching me die and thinking he was to blame?

Because he wasn't, not even slightly. I'd known what I was doing when I'd pulled the blade from him, and I didn't regret it. Blaise wouldn't believe that though, not after everything he'd been through.

Another heartbreaking thought hit me. I couldn't tell him I was in love with him. Not yet. Not until I had a plan. I couldn't afford to be selfish about this. If it turned out I couldn't find an answer, I'd break things off. I'd go to some far-flung corner to die alone with Blaise none the wiser.

"Are you sure you're okay?" I asked.

"Positive." He nodded, gesturing again to his cheek. "Fucker left a scar behind, but that was it. Didn't understand why I wasn't getting sick, but I happened across an angel who filled me in."

"Two angels saving the day then." I mustered up a smile as I hid the horrific realisation ripping through me. If I'd asked Blaise about his scar earlier, I would've known he couldn't be cursed. I would've known to ask a demon to remove it. Something else occurred to me. "Does River know about how curses affect you?"

I already knew the answer before he shook his head. If River had known, he wouldn't have attempted to remove the sword himself. He would've known a demon could do it. "Nah, I never gave him the details. He knows how I got the scar, but it didn't seem worth worrying him about the other stuff."

I stared down at my feet, trying desperately to tether myself. My whole world was rearranging itself around this new knowledge and what we'd been through today. I'd gone from planning on asking Blaise for a real relationship, to being terrified we were both cursed, to knowing he was safe but couldn't be mine. At least, not yet.

The best thing to do was to continue the contract while searching for a solution. Then, when I knew everything was going to be okay, I could open up to Blaise and pray he'd give me a chance.

"You kissed me."

My eyes shot up to meet Blaise's, and the hope I saw there fucking gutted me. Before all of this, it would've delighted me. Now though, I couldn't let him have that hope. Couldn't let myself have it, not until I had a solution, anyway.

"I apologise for that," I said smoothly. "I should've respected the limits we put in the contract, regardless of which of us put them there."

"I didn't mind," Blaise whispered, his cheeks scarlet. "I'd be happy to do it again. You know…if you wanted to."

I knew, I fucking knew, how much it cost Blaise to confess that. But what the fuck was I supposed to do? I couldn't offer him more until I knew what was going on. I couldn't promise him a future until I knew we were guaranteed to have one.

"I think it's best if we don't. The limits in the contract are there for a reason, and we need to respect them."

"But…" Blaise's voice trailed off before he shook himself, determination flaring on his face. "But we could just change the contract, right? If one of us wanted more, then?—"

I was shaking my head, taking a much-needed step back. "No, Blaise. I'm sorry, but this is all I can offer you right now. It's nothing about you, or how I feel about you, but this contract…it's the most I can give you."

I didn't look away, didn't give myself permission to turn away from the hurt and rejection rippling across his expression. I was the one who'd put it there, so I could damn well face it. "I'm sorry, Blaise. I really am. I wish things were different, but they aren't."

Blaise was the one to turn away, casually sidestepping the hand I held out. "It's okay. You never promised me more than this."

I hadn't, but I fucking wished I had. Blaise deserved the entire fucking universe laid at his feet. I wanted to promise and tell him everything. That I'd love him forever. That I'd be by his side always. That I'd command him for the rest of our days. That I'd live to make him happy. That I couldn't believe my fucking luck that he'd stumbled into my life and taken a chance on me.

I wanted to tell him all of that.

But I couldn't. Not without confessing something that might shatter him. I wasn't going to do that, not to him.

I loved him too much to break his heart.

So I was going to break my own instead.

"I'm sorry," I repeated, hating that I needed to ask the next question. I wouldn't be any sort of Dom worth his salt if I didn't. "Do you want to end the contract?"

Blaise looked at me. "Do you?"

"I want whatever you want."

"What I want…" Blaise gave a bitter laugh, rubbing his hand over his face. "I don't want this to end. Not yet, anyway."

His words hinted at a future when it would end, but why wouldn't they? I'd promised him twelve months, and as far as Blaise was concerned, that was our deadline.

Now though, it was a new kind of deadline. I had to find a cure for my curse before our contract was up. If I could keep Blaise close until then, maybe I could make him happy without leading him on.

That way, if I failed, at least I wouldn't be breaking his heart.

"Okay," I said after a long pause. "We'll keep going as we were then."

I reached out to touch him again, but once more, he evaded me. "Actually, I think I'd like some time alone tonight. So much has happened. I need time to…process."

I fought to keep my cool, to stop myself commanding Blaise into bed. It had been months since he'd slept without me in the room. How was I supposed to make it through the night without knowing he was safe?

Blaise cleared his throat, his foot scuffing the carpet. "The ghasts are gone now, so it's safe for me to sleep alone. You don't need to watch over me anymore."

But I want to. You're mine to protect.

I screamed the words into the gaping void forming in my heart. My boy was making a clear request. I had to respect that. I had to put his needs first.

Without letting him see that it was breaking me.

Blaise shouldn't want space, not from me, but after the way I'd rejected him, could I really blame him?

No, I couldn't. The only one I could blame was me.

I'd only been back in my flat a few minutes when I felt someone trip the wards in the bar.

Grabbing my stake, I stalked for the door, muttering under my breath. Even if I hadn't been closest, I'd still be the one dealing with it. Everyone else was likely balls deep as they celebrated the world not ending with their mates. With Blaise asking for space, it wasn't like I had anything better to do than deal with unexpected trespassers.

Palming another stake, I kicked open the door to the dance floor and strode through. I came to an abrupt stop as I spotted the intruder. Towering well over six feet, the higher demon was helping himself to a bottle of Adamanthea. His green eyes marked him as one of the original fallen, a being who'd been around since the beginning of days. No one would peg him as a demon. He looked more like a Greek god than anything else. I'd seen him step through the portal earlier, but I'd been too preoccupied by Blaise to pay much attention.

"Ferry?" I squinted at him as I tilted my head to the side. "You are Ferry…right?"

The Grim Reaper saluted me with the bottle before taking another swig. "At your service."

Irritation flared at his cavalier attitude. We couldn't catch illnesses or diseases, but did he have to swig it from the bottle like that? It was just rude.

"Don't any of you demons understand manners?" I didn't give him a chance to answer, just stormed out back to grab a glass. As I returned, I had my phone in my hand as I typed out a message to the group thread. "Just alerting the group chat that it's you and they don't need to send in the cavalry."

"Am I not dangerous enough to warrant the cavalry?"

Given he'd stepped through with the others, I'd assumed he was to be trusted. My hand slipped down to my stake. "Are you here to cause trouble?"

The demon sighed heavily, slumping forward. I guessed that was a no. "Only if you take the bottle away from me."

My lips twitched as he pouted. The Grim Reaper was in the bar, and he was fucking pouting.

"Who are you, anyway? I mean, I saw you at the portal…but I don't think we've been introduced."

"I'm Toby. I work here." I sighed internally as I went behind the bar and grabbed two glasses. Looked like I was going to have company tonight after all. Maybe Ferry would be a good distraction to stop me thinking about Blaise. Plus, the guy looked like he had a world of shit to get off his shoulders. "Pour us both one. I know you've been in Hell forever, but I'm sure you're aware of basic etiquette."