Page 151 of Shadowface

A deep overwhelm hits me as I begin to pass out. I didn’t ask for this; I didn’t ask for him. And for the first time, I think I’ve fucked the shadow inside him—and more importantly, I think he liked it.

CHAPTER

FORTY-ONE

SUMMER

We 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.