“But I have been using it with you, haven’t I? Some of it? Anyway, it’s a bit late to think of that now. Our souls are married. Permanently.”
“Our fortunes, however, are not. Beloved, I am a dead end for you. You will resent that, eventually. We need to part ways after I drop you off at college. I can’t keep you.”
No. No. No, no, no, no, no, no, no
A lump begins to build in my throat. I swallow it. Hard.
He looks at me incredulously. “Are you sure about this?”
“I want a piece of our relationship that will last forever. You say we can’t have each other. At least leave me with scars I can look at and run my hands over.”
“Ordinarily I’d save that for the aftermath of a collaring or a legal marriage, you know,” he says quietly. “Marking you in preparation for severing our partnership
