As the children of two of London's more prominent pastors, Carlisle and I were no strangers to pain and loss. We had both spent countless hours, travelling from sick bed to sick bed, comforting members of our church as they or their family members took their final breaths. Still a child when his mother had died giving birth to his stillborn sister, Carlisle had been the first to comfort me when my own mother passed in an unexpected accident. Now, with Father Cullen old and sickly, it was my turn to console Carlisle.

My own father, however, wasn't making it easy.

"Please, Father Bennet," Carlisle begged, on his knees. Despite his desperate position, I could see the determination in his eyes. "I know we have our differences. But there's no one I trust more to anoint my father on his sickbed than you."

Flattery. Always the best method. I watched my father, trying to gauge his response.

"Papa," I prompted softly, sensing his mind was conflicted. "You have nothing against Father Cullen. He has always been kind and welcoming. A friend, even."

My father sighed, resting a hand on my shoulder as he addressed Carlisle. "You are lucky, once again, that I find it difficult to deny my daughter. Go ahead. I will be with you shortly."

Carlisle let out a sharp breath of relief and stood. "Thank you, Father. This means a lot to me, and I know it will mean a lot to him, as well."

"I don't understand why you dislike him so much," I murmured as Carlisle walked away. Even from behind, he looked worn and exhausted, shoulders slumped and head dropped. It made my heart ache, knowing there was little I could do beyond offering comfort in our stolen moments together. Though I stood by my father's side now, there was nothing I wanted more than to run to Carlisle right now and tell him all would be well.

"Because of him, Lorelle, you remain unmarried. People are beginning to question my authority. Worse, they're beginning to question whether I did the right thing in keeping you after your mother died, if I somehow failed in teaching you what you need to know to be a good wife."

"Well, what were you supposed to do? Send me away to some aunt in the countryside that I have never met before?" I shook my head. "You've done a wonderful job of raising me, Papa. If you would just give Carlisle your blessing, there would be no issue!"

"That will never happen. Not while I am alive and well. Father Cullen might be a good man, but there is something off about that boy. If I allow you to marry him, how will I protect you?"

"I'm beginning to think it isn't just Carlisle you have an issue with."

"My word is final, Lorelle. Now, I must leave if I want to anoint the good Father by midday."

"No, wait, I'm coming with."

"Lorelle..."

"Father."

He let out a long, heavy sigh, looking up to the heavens as if asking the good Lord Himself what he had done to be given such a stubborn daughter. "So be it.

...

Though I had seen Father Cullen not two days prior, he had deteriorated quickly, and I could barely hide my shock. Wrinkled with age, he was stiff in his bed, eyes milky with disuse. His skin was nearly translucent, and each breath was labored and raspy. Carlisle lit a dim lantern before hurrying to his father's side, kneeling and taking his weathered hand.

"I brought guests," he said, speaking loudly so Father Cullen could hear. "Father Bennet and Lorelle."

"Lorelle?" He perked up, pushing into a sitting position against his many cushions. "Come closer, dear! Let me see what I can of you."

I approached, kneeling beside Carlisle and placing my hands in the Father's with a sad smile on my lips. Carlisle stood, allowing his hand to brush mine for the briefest of moments. "Hello, Father Cullen."

"How have you been, dear? Taking good care of your father?"

"Of course."

"Good, good... and keeping Carlisle on his toes, I hope."

"As much as I can." I glanced at Papa, noting that he was studiously ignoring our words with a clenched jaw.

"Take care of him, will you? He'll need it."

"You're not dying, Father. Not yet."

He snorted. "Well, clearly my own son thinks differently if he's invited Father Bennet."

"Just to be safe, you understand," Papa said, finally stepping forward. "In any case. It's a simple anointment. Not your rites quite yet."

"Bah. Might as well get it all over with at once."

Carlisle and I stepped aside, watching as my father prayed over his. Carlisle's hip brushed against my skirts, and I gave him a warning look. That was a bold move, with both of our parents in the room. Carlisle smiled sheepishly, then leaned in to whisper in my ear.

"Meet me in the stables after this." I nodded, a little disappointed when he placed a healthy distance between us as Papa finished the anointment.

"Lorelle. Off we go."

Reluctant, I trailed after him. When a few houses had distanced us from the Cullen home, I stopped in my tracks, feigning alarm. "My purse! I must have dropped it."

My father's face cycled through several emotions-irritation, suspicion, and then finally reluctant acceptance. "Very well. Go on and retrieve it, then... and don't stay out late, please. I would rather you not add to the number of disappearances as of late."

"Thank you!" I left him with a quick kiss on the cheek before lifting my skirts and dashing away. Carlisle leaned against a pile of hay bales in the stables, standing and smiling as I ran right into his arms. His lips pressed tenderly against my forehead.

"We've found a nest," he murmured, still holding me close. I pulled away just enough to look up into his face and see the conflict raging in his expression. "Father wants me to lead the hunt. He very well can't, after all."

"You hate those hunts."

"I know. But what else am I supposed to do?"

"Don't go, Carlisle," I replied immediately. "Tell him... tell him you fell and injured your ankle. Make someone else lead them, or better yet, call it off."

He shook his head. "You know I can't do that. Besides, I... I think this might be a real creature, Lorelle. I've been tracking it for days now, and everything leads to this abandoned chapel near the old Artillery Grounds. I can't lead them to such a dangerous being and then abandon them."

"But you're putting yourself in danger, too. What do I do if you don't come back, Carlisle?"

"There is no need to worry about it, my darling. I will return," he swore. "Actually, I... I thought I might leave you with something to mark my promise."

I tilted my head, curious. "What do you mean?"

Carlisle took a deep breath and stepped back, pulling something from his pocket. He placed it carefully in the center of his palm, and I gasped. It was a simple poesy ring, set with a rough emerald and engraved along the inside of the band. My love for thee will last eternally. I had seen the ring once before, placed delicately at the forefront of Carlisle's late mother's jewelry box.

"Carlisle..."

"Lorelle. I... I want you to marry me," he said. "Not right now. I know your father doesn't approve, and I want to do this the right way. But I want this to be my promise to you that I will do whatever it takes for us to be together for all eternity."

I nodded, wordless as he placed the ring on my finger, before reaching into my hair and untying a red ribbon. "Then I want you to have a token of me, as well. To help you remember your promise tonight."

"As if I could forget," Carlisle said, but he obediently allowed me to carefully tie the ribbon onto his wrist. My fingers trembled, and I paused for a moment, gathering myself.

"Be careful, darling. Please. I couldn't bear to lose you."

"Of course, my love. My Lore."

Throat tight with emotion, I pressed my lips to his, closing my eyes against the tears that threatened to spill. I couldn't allow him to see my fear. He needed to be in his right mind tonight, and my distress would only be a distraction.

Even so, I couldn't ignore the dread that crept through my body like ice.