But I hadn’t been able to forget Dimitri, or accept that he was essentially dead. He was the man I loved, the man with whom I’d been so perfectly in sync that it was hard to know where I ended and he began. My heart refused to let him go even if he was technically a monster, he was still out there somewhere. I also hadn’t forgotten a conversation he and I had once had. We’d both agreed that we’d rather be dead-truly dead-than walk the world as Strigoi.