It was there in the back of his mind. He could feel it like a cold breath on his neck. It was tangling his thoughts together, binding them to irrational emotions. He stared at her face, so calm and serious, wondering when this had happened. When had she turned against him? Was it when he had been staring right at her, or had she gone behind his back? Had she planned this, or did something get in the way of the relationship they were trying to build?

And then he realised that those questions didn't matter. What mattered was that it had happened, and he couldn't stop it. Not now, and not ever.

"You're serious," Adrian said, his tone cutting and cold as he watched her steady gaze. She didn't turn away, no matter how hard he tried to shame her into doing just that. Her mind was set, unrelenting and unchangeable. "You really believe what you're saying."

"Because it's true. We're not a good match. A comfortable match, but not a good one. When you find the girl for you, you'll know. You just will. And it isn't me. You shouldn't have to ask why I'm leaving; you should just know and understand it," Rose replied. Her brown eyes were deep and poisonous, the gaze burning straight through his broken one, reaching down into his blood.

"And accept it, I'm guessing." Adrian felt frustrated as she sat there in her seat, calmly breaking his heart into shattered dust. "But if I knew why you were leaving, you wouldn't need to leave. You and me, we are a perfect fit."

"We're not a perfect fit, we just compliment each other. You should know that I don't want to hurt you, but it's inevitable." For the first time since she'd arrived back at the room, she looked sad. A deep sadness that radiated from her to him. She truly believed in what she was saying, and that made this all worse. Anger tore through him, a means to protect himself. "I wish - "

"No, don't bother." Adrian rose from her bed, his strides long and purposeful. He paused when he reached the door. "I don't to hear it. It's all empty. There's nothing meaningful in your comfort. You've destroyed me, Rosemarie Hathaway, and I want you to remember that fact for the rest of your life. Spirit may drive me into insanity, but you're the one that made me race towards that end."

"Adrian - " Rose called out, startled. She spotted what he felt at the same time, her trained eyes observant and fast. He rose a hand to his eyes, wiping away the solitary tear that had escaped. Shame coloured his cheeks. He was an Ivashkov, a lord, he did not cry. He especially did not cry in front of Rose. "Adrian - " she repeated, this time in a desperate whisper.

He hadn't cried when his mother had kicked him out of the house. He hadn't cried when his aunt had died. He hadn't cried for years. He'd been above all that, but apparently all it took to undo him was one dhampir. One dhampir who had taken his heart away. She still had it, but she could keep it. He didn't want it anymore. He turned back to the door and yanked it open, letting it slam against the wall. He couldn't stay here, even as he heard her move, cry out his name, and let out a broken sob. He wouldn't stay here a second longer. There was nothing for him here.