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“Because I’m obsessed with you, Summer,” I bark out. “Not a day will go by where I won’t want you, or think about you, or watch your every move. You’re the only reason I’m still alive. You are the only reason I want to live. We were meant to be together, baby, and I’ll slaughter this entire town if I can’t have you.”

“You want to kill me,” she cries out. “And I don’t want to die anymore.” Her voice sounds so distant, like she’s never been further away from me. “Those thoughts are ones you implanted in me. You ruined my mind, Mikael, and you’re going to destroy my body, but I will not give you my soul.”

I grab the blade I keep in my pocket and squeeze it until it draws blood. Reminding me that breath is not the only symbol of life; blood represents life as much as it does death.

“Your father knew what I was when he brought me to your house,” I tell her. “He knew how I’d react to you and brought me near you, anyway. He gave you to me, pretty girl, whether he meant to or not. He handed you to me on a silver platter. You don’t get a choice in this matter.”

Her breath grows heavy, like she’s crying. Her sweet voice, so gentle and full of despair, nearly kills me. I hate when she cries, and she used to whimper in her sleep so often. I was the one who wiped away those tears.

Me.

“Is Lincoln really gone?” she murmurs.

My jaw tightens, and I grab the blanket, twisting it in my hands. “He never existed. Any love you have for him is for me. You falling for Lincoln is the equivalent of falling for a machine. Did it feel like you were being fucked by someone who didn’t love you? Every orgasm you’ve ever had is one I’ve given you, baby. Every damn time.”

She sucks in a breath. “He can’t be gone. It’s impossible to kill an alter. He called himself a god. He’s stronger than you.”

I bite the inside of my cheek, my patience waning from her lack of understanding. “God, demon, angel…ancient spirit. I’m not disputing that he wasn’t those things. But do you know what he wasn’t, baby?”

Silence.

“Fucking human,” I hiss. “He was programmed by the child version of me who realized life was easier without caring. My subconscious created a better version of myself, and now…now I’m slowly becoming him. I’m stealing everything he ever did, all the parts of him that suit me, because they were all mine to begin with. We are one fucking person, so quit referring to him as if he’s someone else. I’m your god, baby. I’m everything you will ever need if you can just trust me.”

She lets out a sob. “Mikael, I’m leaving.”

My breath grows heavy, and I run my hand over the back of my neck. “What?”

“Don’t try to follow me and don’t contact my family or Dani. I told them I can’t be here anymore because it reminds me of my dad. I’m leaving as soon as I can. If you come near me, or ever contact me again, I will run far away and tell the world what’s going on here. I am not lying about that. You’re very sick, and this world was better when you were locked away.”

“Go ahead, baby.” I let out a dark laugh. “Tell the world what I am; they won’t do anything about it. They’ll silence you before you can leave town. Everyone wants this to happen; your death means everything to them. It’s our way, Summer. We can play this game of cat and mouse if you want. Deep down, I want you to run from me. I want to see how wet your pussy is before I kill you.”

I kill the line before she can respond, seething anger roiling through me.

My anger feels like home. It fuels me, gives me purpose, gives me hope. It makes me fucking ravished—especially when I think about Summer in her tight little outfits and her salty attitude.

I walk over to the bathroom and splash cold water on my face, running my hand over my chin. I inspect my adult face—the perfectly portioned features I got from my mother.

By society’s standards, I am attractive. Society likes pretty people; they revel in those they deem attractive. But if society knew what went on in my head, my brain would be dissected.

I want to kill every blonde girl I meet. Everyone who remotely reminds me of my mother, I want to make their eyes bleed. But thanks to Lincoln, we seem to settle into society just fine.

Lincoln’s glasses are in a case by the sink—the last place he stood before I took over. I put them on and stare at the blurry face in the shattered mirror. Distorted eyes, a twisted mouth, a ghostly double shadow behind me. It’s how I saw myself when Lincoln was in control. The reflection of what I truly am.

A monster with a shadowed face…

Shadowface.

It’s the adult version of myself, as if Lincoln never existed.

The thumping and shouting continues upstairs. I pull off the glasses and get dressed. I need to talk to Xander. He’s the only other person who knows about me. He watched me transform when we were kids, and he watched as I lost myself.

But he cared about me, even if he doesn’t want to admit it. He was the first person to actually give a shit, even if I didn’t know how to reciprocate at the time. Killing him seemed easier than to admit I kind of enjoyed hanging out with him.

And he already knows I’m back, though Lucy’s known for weeks.

I hear dark, nefarious laughter that echoes in the room, taking over all my senses, causing me to pull on my hair, trying to get it to stop. The hair on my neck stands on end.

It’s the laughter of a god. And he’s mad, the hatred almost mirroring my own. I close my eyes, and when I open them, a message is written on the mirror.