Day twelve remaining. Liam found Rhys in the library, surrounded by books he wasn't reading.
"We need to talk," Liam said.
"About?"
"About the fact that I'm in love with you."
Rhys's head snapped up. "What?"
Liam sat down across from him, expression serious. "I wasn't going to say anything. Thought it would just complicate things. But with twelve days left, you need all the information to make your choice."
"Liam—"
"Let me finish." Liam's voice was steady. "I started having dreams about you before we even met. Months before you bought this place. I'd see your face, feel this desperate need to protect you, and I didn't understand why. Then I saw you standing in that doorway, and I just... knew."
"Knew what?"
"That I'd failed you before. That Cassian let Elara down, and I wasn't going to make that mistake again." Liam leaned forward. "But it's not just about past lives anymore, Rhys. These past two weeks, getting to know you—not Elara, YOU—I've fallen for the person you are now. Your strength. Your resilience. The way you fight even when everything seems hopeless."
Rhys felt his chest tighten. "This is the worst possible timing."
"I know. But you're about to choose between eternal imprisonment with a ghost or freedom. And I need you to know: if you choose freedom, you won't be alone. I'll be there. We can build a life together—a real one, with choices and futures and possibilities."
"Pryce will kill you."
"If you choose freedom, Pryce ceases to exist. The curse ends. I'd be safe." Liam reached across the table, took Rhys's hand. "I'm not asking you to love me back. I'm just asking you to know that choosing freedom doesn't mean choosing loneliness."
Rhys stared at their joined hands. Liam's was warm. Alive. Real.
Everything Pryce could never be.
"I don't know what I feel," Rhys admitted. "About you, about Pryce, about any of this."
"That's okay. You have twelve days to figure it out." Liam squeezed his hand. "But I wanted you to have all the options laid out clearly: Eternity with Pryce in a gothic prison. Or a real life with me in the actual world. Choose whatever you need, Rhys. Just choose for yourself, not out of guilt or obligation or pity."
He stood, releasing Rhys's hand.
"I'll be in my room if you need me. And Rhys?" Liam paused at the door. "Whatever you choose, I won't abandon you. Even if you pick Pryce, I'll find a way to check on you. Make sure you're okay. That's a promise."
He left.
Rhys sat in the library, head in his hands, and wanted to scream.
Two men. Two futures. Both offering love, but such different kinds.
Pryce: passionate, obsessive, eternal—but trapped and dark.
Liam: warm, steady, real—but unknown and uncertain.
How was he supposed to choose?