Chapter 41
CHAPTER
FORTY-ONE
SUMMER
W e lay in a crumpled mess on the cold forest floor for at least half an hour, a light dusting of frost surrounding us. Once he came inside me, his body went soft, and he didn’t move. He lays over top of me and I closed my eyes. His steady breathing is the sole indicator he’s still inside his head. His body is wrapped around me, and despite how cold I am, I’ve never been so warm.
He didn’t kill me, but he came damn close.
I’m afraid to move, afraid to see what’s left of him after whatever he went through tonight. The seconds tick by and the moon drifts across the clear sky. I understand he must take me to the Order, and I’m not entirely sure what came of Misty.
His steady breathing behind me stops, and when I turn to face him, he’s staring at me curiously.
I run my hand along his high cheekbone and stare into his eyes, unsure if he can see me. He flinches but doesn’t pull my hand away; instead, he brings my hands to his mouth and kisses it. He blinks, as if his eyes pull into themselves.
“Hi,” I whisper, my heart trembling. The turmoil he just experienced seems to have passed, but the way he looks at me fills me with worry.
Does he not recognize me?
What if the inner battle he faced has caused him to lose himself entirely? What if a new persona is gazing back at me? One I can’t comprehend or control.
He tugs my hips closer to him. “Come here,” he whispers.
His lips caress my forehead, causing my senses to pop, and my legs to wrap around him.
“I’m still supposed to kill you tonight, Summer,” he says carefully, but the way his hands roam my body tells a different story.
I pause, contemplating. “Do you still want to kill me?” I ask, shivering. I study his soul, searching for any trace of primal rage.
Is he Mikael? Lincoln? I look for the split, for any sign that the fragmented demon has taken over again.
He pulls back, licking his lips as if the thought of killing me stirs his appetite.
“Yeah,” he whispers, his deep voice taking my breath away. “I really fucking do.” His chest rises and his lips brush against my neck where he bites down. My breath lengthens as he nibbles on my ear. “I think part of me will always crave your death, pretty girl.”
Pretty girl . I am his pretty girl, and because of him, I have the most fucked-up kink in existence.
And I will love him until the end of time because he brought me to the brink of death during my orgasm and somehow brought me back again. And nothing will ever compare to what I just experienced with him.
He has an untethered urge to kill me, and I have a death fetish. We’re a match made in heaven.
He blinks at me and smiles, flashing his perfect white teeth. “You like that about me, don’t you?”
I grind against him, bucking my hips hard as if the sex we just had wasn’t enough. I reach up and kiss him, slipping my tongue between his lips, getting aroused again. He stiffens, surprised by the kiss, and I go wholly still at how different his lips are.
Like maybe he doesn’t know who I am? Then he kisses me back ferociously.
I stop and frown at him, still petrified to ask his name. His energy is different. This version is all confidence, cuddles and kisses, with an edge of darkness.
“Who are you right now?” I ask him. “Tell me your name?”
He blinks a couple of times and tilts his head, and a warm smile crosses his face. “I don’t think I have one yet.”
I part my lips as my breath wraps and coils in the air around me. The temperature is dropping fast.
“You’re not Mikael?” I ask cautiously, and part of me grieves at that thought.
He shakes his head. “Mikael doesn’t seem right anymore.”
I arch my brows. “Lincoln?”
He nods and smiles. “It’s for the best.”
Tears burn the back of my eyes, but I’m not sure why. Lincoln was better, easier. But part of me mourns for the boy who couldn’t handle his life. For the boy who lost his mother.
My throat bobs as emotion pours into it. “Is Mikael gone completely?”
He wraps his hand around my waist. “Not entirely. That’s not the way it works. I’m still him. He loved you so much, Summer, that in the final moments before we fused, he gave me all of it. He gave me his conscience, his love, anger, remorse. I feel everything, baby, and now, I have to take accountability for my trauma.”
I realize he can now see me without those damn glasses. “So you’re Lincoln, then?”
He bites his lip, and a flash of annoyance hits his eyes, as if he doesn’t understand why I can’t comprehend this. “Again, not entirely. I’m a better version of both of them.” His darkness shines down on me, and I recognize the split in his mannerisms, in the shadows in his eyes. At least they no longer look like they belong in hell.
“And the fragment?” I ask.
“That fragment is my trauma, Summer. And yes, it’s still here, too.”
It …
“What happens now?”
He snuggles me into the crook of his arm. “My life would be easier if I killed you. I’ll have access to a fortune and the power that comes from being one of them. I’ll get my tenure at work immediately and won’t have to worry about anything for the rest of my life.”
I’m so focused on Lincoln, on his shadowed eyes and on what he’s saying, that I barely notice the footsteps that pass us.
Misty stumbles into the clearing we are lying in, and Lincoln and I both shoot up. Her eyes widen when she sees the position we’re in.
We all stare at one another, and no one moves an inch. Until she moves her foot, and we both jolt up to our feet, pulling our clothes back on.
“You both are batshit crazy,” she stammers, darting her eyes around the darkness for an escape.
I turn to Lincoln, only now vaguely aware of the cut on my arm and how badly it hurts. “She’s still alive?”
He shrugs. “I thought you’d be mad if I killed her.”
“Unbelievable,” I mutter.
She bolts into the night, and I dart after her, managing to stop her by leaping forward, grabbing at her feet and tripping her. She falls flat on her face but wiggles and thrashes beneath me.
“Let go of me,” she screams. “He tried to kill me.” She kicks at me, which irritates the fuck out of me because I’m quite injured, too.
“He did not try to kill you,” I correct her, and pin her to the ground with every ounce of my energy. Even in my satiated state, I’m still stronger than she is. “Relax, Misty.”
She twists to her front. “You have no idea what he?—”
Her eyes lose all color as she stares right past me and her words cut off. I turn my head to see Lincoln leaning against the tree I was hiding behind, his mask back on his face. Something flashes in his hand.
“I’m going to tell everyone what you are.” She turns her attention to me. “And you… you knew what he was this entire time, didn’t you?” I meet her with silence. “Didn’t you?” she screams.
I glance at Lincoln, then shift my gaze to his hands, where he’s toying with his blade. “Take off your mask,” I tell him.
He takes it off and hands it to me, and I direct my attention back to Misty, whose eyes widen. “We can do this the easy way or the hard way.” I lean over her, and Lincoln hands me the blade he’s playing with. “Do you want to live or die tonight?” I ask, gripping it.
She tightens her jaw, pressing her lips together, staring at my hand. She barely manages a gulp as I press it against her throat.
“Don’t fight me on this. You have no idea what you’re dealing with, because right now, I don’t care whether you live or die. I have too much at stake to deal with your shit.” I point at Lincoln. “Do you see that guy right there?”
She swallows hard. “Yes.”
“Who is that?”
“That’s Lincoln Kennedy, our TA.”
I grip her chin, keeping my blade tight in my fist.
“Wrong. This man is Mikael Peters.”
She catches her breath, darting her gaze to Lincoln, who plays the role of villain so perfectly. He merely picks at his nails as we discuss the matters at hand.
“Say his name…”
She trembles, but finally coughs out, “Mikael Peters.” She’s catching on.
“Good,” I tell her. “Because he is capable of ripping your throat out so you can’t scream or tell anyone what happened here tonight. He killed Grant because Grant tried to take advantage of me. He silenced that girl Cali to get my attention. He took you to make me jealous. You’re not special, Misty. You’re basic. And I want to help you go back to your basic life, okay?”
She shakes violently.
I press the blade harder into her throat. “Okay?”
She sniffles, wipes her nose, and finally says, “What do you need me to do?”
I pull the blade off and help her up to her feet. “It’s not going to be very fun, but I need you to trust me. And I need you to cooperate like your life depends on it.”
“What are you planning, Summer?” Lincoln asks, walking up to me and wrapping his arms around my midsection.
I grab his hand and interlace my fingers with his and peer up at him, then back down at her. “They want a blonde, so we give them a blonde.”