Sam sits patiently at my round kitchen table, still shirtless and teasing, while I make us a mug of fresh coffee. We've hardly spoken more than a few words to each other and I don't even know where to begin. He isn't exactly the 'cuddling in bed' type and he isn't much for 'after sex reflection' either. So, what do I say to him? How do I play this? I can't figure it out.

I slide over his coffee and our fingertips graze each other for a moment. I swallow and take a seat.

"How did you find me?" I whisper.

"I'm a good tracker," he says. "It's a talent of mine."

"You have Slayers here don't you?"

He nods, grinning at me. "Do you have a problem with that?"

"No. But I don't want to be spied on. If you're placing units back in Arizona then I want to know about it."

"I can't exactly walk down the hall and tell you," he says. "It's only been a day, Theresa, relax. It's not like I'm pushing the wiccans out of the city. I've always had eyes here; it's just now I trust you to know about it."

I glance at the window. I'm being paranoid, but for good reason. Even though I know that no one's out there, I feel as though I'm being watched. I can't shake it. I decide to change the subject, because talking about Slayers and units might just make my head explode.

"How are the humans adjusting? Did they make it to the camp okay?"

"You know they did."

I meet his low, suspicious eyes. "Do I?"

"You went back for the boy," he says. "You're very. . . protective of him."

"Am I?"

"Stop doing that."

"Doing what?"

He smiles and as he lifts his mug to his lips, his eyes look down to my chest. "Does it hurt you?"

"Does what hurt me?" I say.

"Wearing the amulet of the Elders."

I touch the crystal instinctively and I bite on my lip. It's the first time he's brought it up, and I should have known better than to assume he wouldn't recognise it.

"You know what this is?" I whisper. "But you saw me wearing it that day that Amara attacked Sophia. Why didn't you say something?"

"The amulet isn't dangerous, Theresa. Only the person wearing it is. It's just like any other weapon. It's harmless until someone yields it."

"Which is why I can't take it off this time," I sigh. "I'm in a city full of witches that will do anything to prove that they deserve to take Amara's place. I still can't believe that she's really gone. It doesn't feel real yet."

"And what a giant mess she's left you to clean up."

I look at him, sensing something more to his statement. It's true, it's a giant mess, but what else is new? Cleaning up Amara's messes is what this world is forced to be good at. I take a sip of my coffee and I choke on the courage to bring up the one thing I've been wanting to tell him since I saw him sat at the end of my bed.

"Something happened yesterday," I whisper. "I had to go back to the castle to see Curtis and. . . I was attacked."

"Attacked?" he says. "What do you mean?"

"By something that wasn't a Slayer, or a human." I widen my eyes at him but he just stares back at me. "It was a demon."

"That's impossible."

"Curtis saw it too," I say. "It was real. And it was pissed."

"Demons don't have a foothold in our world. There's too many Slayers feeding from its energy for them to be physically strong enough to walk it, let alone attack someone."

I slide the strap of my gown down my arm and I point to my shoulder. "You see those bruises? They weren't caused by the attack at the Red Camp. It was a demon, Sam. It literally held me down and it. . . showed me things. Things that terrified me. It didn't have eyes, it just had these black holes of endless darkness. I could feel it feeding off of me. It didn't care what I was or where I came from, it just saw energy it could eat."

Sam's face begins to whiten. He bears the same look that Curtis had when he first saw it. I shudder as I remember the creature's claws against my skin, its bone-screeching howl that placed permanent scars in my soul.

"They're getting stronger, Sam," I say. "Amara's death only brought them closer. The power to fight them is in this amulet, but I need time to find it. "

"No," he says. "Don't even think about going against them. You'll lose. They're my problem, leave it to me."

"What do you plan to do? Ask them nicely to leave us alone?" I chuckle to myself.

"I don't know yet."

"They give their orders to you, right?" I say. "So, what happens when they demand that you kill the new Elder?"

He scowls. "Don't become the Elder and we can avoid that."

"That's not an option," I sigh. "I'm having the coronation tonight. It's happening."

"But you don't want it. Why put yourself through all of that when you can do whatever you want without the title?"

"Are you truly that afraid that they'll order you to kill me?"

He looks away and plays with his fingers. To avoid another argument, I gently move the chair around the table and I place my hand to his. His actions stop and he softly glances at me.

"Talk to me," I say.

"If they've already attacked you then it's a possibility," he says. He takes a deep breath and stares at the kitchen wall. "I can delay them, give you a few months maybe. But they'll be tracking me closely. We can't see each other again."

Something inside of me reacts badly to those words. He takes back his hand and the coldness returns. The distance between us is minimal and it feels wrong, so how can I possibly cope with permanent distance? This is the cost to my decision; I already knew and accepted that. But that was before we shared an incredible experience together, that was before I learned that to be close to him is like reaching out for the sun. It was much easier to walk away yesterday, now everything is backwards. All I can think about is his hands on my body, his lips on my throat, his soul entwined with mine for a selfish and irresistible pleasure. How do I walk away from that?

I stand from the table and I turn away from him. I close my eyes as I breathe over the sink. I ache for Sophia; I need her now more than ever and I can't ever see her again. None of them, again. I didn't know what it meant yesterday, but I'm beginning to understand it now. Maybe our paths will cross again, but it won't be like before. I'll have responsibilities, duties; I'll have an entire species to protect. So many lives will rely on me to do things better, and the Slayers can't be part of that.

"I know what it's like to make the hardest choice of your life," Sam whispers. "I made mine four months ago."

"Saving me was the hardest choice of your life?" I say.

"No," he says. "Saving your life was the easiest. Allowing you to prove me wrong was the hardest."

"Allowing me?" I laugh.

"We both know that you've already made it," he says. "So, I'm going to make this easier and say goodbye for the both of us."

"It's not like this is real," I say, turning around slowly. "Whatever we feel, it's just attraction at most. Right?"

"Right," he agrees.

"And what we did," my voice drops lower. "It didn't change anything. I mean, yeah it was amazing and it'll always be ours, but it's not history repeating itself."

"I'm the one trying to say goodbye, Theresa. What are you doing?"

I swallow. Just looking at him sends chills through my system. "I'm saying goodbye too."

"Alright." He stands with his jacket curled over his arm and he walks towards me. My fingers dig deeper into the counter as he leans over me and touches my face. "I'll respect your choice no matter what it is. But I also need you to know that there's still a chance that you can come home. If you go through with this, yes you will save lives, but you'll lose us. Strength suits you, power doesn't."

"I can't be a part of your unit," I say. "I wish that I could split myself in half but I can't. I don't want power, Sam, I never wanted it. I'm not Amara, I'm not her ancestors, all I've got to protect myself is this amulet that doesn't even belong to me. But if I go back with you, then I will be ignoring thousands of people that need my help."

"I understand," he says, taking a step back. "But that won't keep me from hoping. The others too. You're not a witch to us anymore, you're not defined by that. You're defined by the loyalty that you have for them. You can be so much more than one of them."

"You can be so much more than that too," I say.

"Hm."

I sigh. "I just want this all to end. I'm exhausted."

"It hasn't even begun yet. Welcome to the life of being a leader and making decisions that always put your own desires last. The difference between you and I? I didn't choose that life and I can't think of anything worse than losing yourself to it by choice."

I cross my arms and look away. He's trying to change my mind and I get that, but his point is strong. Maybe I don't know what the hell I'm doing anymore. Maybe I'm kidding myself to think I can even make a difference. I'll just keep going around the pros and cons until I'm standing at that coronation and somehow, I'll just know. Sam is a born leader, even if it was out of his hands, he doesn't see what I see. I will never be as brave as him, or as smart as him, or as prepared as him, but I will try my damn hardest to be as selfless as him.

"I thought you wanted your freedom," he says. "Desires are a big part of that."

I know all about desire. I can feel it writhing in my stomach like boiling water. He is my desire, in this moment, he is the only thing I want. I hate myself for thinking that. It scares me. It scares me more than anything.

"You won't be free this way. They'll use you until you're too broken to even remember how you got there."

"I need you to leave now." I can't look at him, I can't do it. It's taking all of me not to break down and he knows that.

"Wherever your choice takes you, I hope you find some happiness."

He kisses my forehead softly and I close my eyes. I can smell him, hear his breaths, feel his presence as though he's one with me. But the cold swoops over me before I've even opened my eyes. I already know he's gone, and the confirmation is devastating. There's so much more I needed to say, so much he should have heard. That I lied, that it wasn't just attraction, that I need him, that I'll always need him, but it wouldn't make a difference. My body falls down into the chair and I begin wiping away the tears.

It's ridiculous. I'm ridiculous. I can't possibly be in love with him. It's not possible. He's everything I despise in a man. He's arrogant and dismissive, stubborn and rude. But he's also passionate, thoughtful, selfless, brave, and he'd sacrifice his life for someone he loves. I've seen every possible side to him, good and bad, but I've never been surer of who he is than our time together upstairs. I will always remember it, it will forever be ours, and nothing can ever take it away.

I told him to go and he did. I shouldn't be mad that he respected what I wanted, but I am mad. I'm mad that neither of us told the truth to each other, that the moment is gone and there's no going back. I have to be strong to be the Elder but I'm crumbling. I'm crumbling from the backlash of my emotions that I cannot understand, for my uncertain heart that beats five times as loud when he touches me.

And for my lonely life that will never be the same again.