Julian was waiting outside my door when I emerged. He said nothing, just gestured toward the stairs. I caught him wrinkling his nose, though, as I passed.

“Is something wrong?” I asked, pausing on the landing.

“No. Why do you ask?” He looked surprised at my question.

“You made a face when I walked by you. I’m sorry if you don’t like my perfume. I didn’t use much of it because I know some people are sensitive, but I hate going out without a little dab of something.”

An oddly embarrassed look flitted across his face as he gestured again toward the stairs. “It’s not that. It’s . . . er . . . you are a Beloved.”

“Technically, yes.”

“Has no one told you what that means?” he asked, marching down the stairs beside me.

I met the frankly curious glance he slid my way. “Not really, other than the fact that I evidently gave Kristoff back his soul or something along those lines.”

“It’s a bit more complicated than that,” he said slowly. I continued down the stairs, grateful we were going down, not up, so I wouldn’t arrive before the all-important council sweaty and out of breath. “Once Joined, a Dark One can’t exist without his Beloved.”

“I hate to doubt you, since you must know your people much better than I do, but I’m pretty much a contradiction to that statement. I haven’t seen Kristoff since the night he got his soul back. So obviously Dark Ones can get along just fine without their womenfolk.”

He didn’t look surprised, just gave a little shake of his head. “You will judge for yourself how well Kristoff has been without you.”

I stopped at the bottom of the stairs and looked at him, a sudden stab of fear piercing my heart. “Is something wrong with him? Is he sick?”

Julian just waved toward a hallway. We were on the second floor, at one end of a long hallway that ran the length of the house. “As a Beloved, you must know the mental, physical, and emotional state of the one mated to you.”