At first, when Emily pressed her hand over his chest, Kit said nothing.

Her instructions were clear, leaving no room for misinterpretation. What else could those four words mean? Tear out your heart. He believed them. His heart believed them, too. With a gentle thrum from beneath the cage of his ribs, Kit knew it understood as well as he did.

But if he ripped out his heart, wouldn't he die?

Gently, his hand falling atop Emily's, fingers curling such that they held her hand before pushing it gingerly away from him, Kit laughed.

"Is that all?"

He wasn't afraid. Death stood before him, and he had the chance to cheat it. If his memories served him...he'd been reborn once already. Twice, if he counted the life he led now. He had a devil's luck.

The rewards would be his.