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“That’s Mal,” she chokes out. “My first love.”

It doesn’t bother me that she’s loved before. Hell, I would have expected nothing less, given how long she’s been alive. No, what pisses me off is the shadow choosing this memory to torment her with in an attempt to drive us apart.

I move forward, blocking Bronywyn’s view of the man she’d called Mal.

Lucy cocks her head to the side. “Interesting.”

“We both know you aren’t really Lucy, so how about you stop being a fucking coward and show yourself for who you really are.”

Lucy’s grin spreads, and she releases Mal. He falls to the floor and disappears, the memory fading to blackness again. I’m starting to think the blackness is where we need to be whenever Bronywyn finally wakes up.

The memories are being used to drive her further and further into the confines of her own mind. That way, when the tonic wears off, the shadow can regain control. This isn’t a rescue mission; it’s about survival. Pushing through the memories and remaining firmly planted in the present.

“You have to get out of this memory, Bronywyn.”

“Go ahead, Bronny. Try.” Lucy’s face contorts, turning into Mal with black eyes and a sadistic smile.

Bronywyn gasps and covers her mouth with a shaking hand. “This isn’t right.”

“No. It’s not,” I tell her, coming to stand in front of her again. I turn to face her and cup both cheeks as she drops her hand. If my suspicions are correct, she’s getting close to waking up, and the shadow is doing what it can to keep her from being the one who surfaces. “Focus and end this memory.”

With a nod, Bronywyn straightens and closes her eyes, a single tear breaking free and trailing down her cheek.

“No! Come and play!” A masculine voice yells. I turn toward where Lucy stood, not at all surprised to see her still wearing Mal’s face.

“Stay focused,” I tell Bronywyn. “Get us out of here. You can do it.”

Mal grins and rushes toward me. I lunge forward, dropping my shoulder so it slams into his gut. Pain radiates through my collar bone, but I ignore it, my only concern giving Bronywyn time to focus. Maybe that’s why I need to be here, to bear her pain and keep her rooted.

“I’m trying!” she calls out.

I roll Mal over and ram my fist into his nose.

“Does it feel good?” he asks. “To hurt Bronny’s first love?”

“You won’t get me. Unfortunately for you, I’m not a jealous bastard.” I hit him again, and he roars in outrage as he bucks, throwing me to the side.

The darkness around us ripples, the scene trying to change despite the shadow’s best efforts. Bronywyn’s face is taut—mouth flat, eyes clamped shut—as she tries to focus on breaking us free from this war inside her head.

Mal rushes for her, but I lurch forward and wrap both arms around his waist, throwing him off course.

He disappears, and I clatter to the ground. When I push to my feet, I watch in complete horror as more than just Mal appears around Bronywyn and me.

Lucy, Mal, the Bronywyn from the other night, Rainey, Elijah, Delaney, Cole—they’re all here. Every single one of them has soulless black eyes and is heading straight for the woman trying her damnedest to get us out of here.

We’re close.I can feel it in my bones. “Keep going, baby. You’re almost there.”

The room falls away, leaving us all standing in the center of blackness. “Tarnley,” she whispers.

“You did it—” I turn toward her, but she’s gone.

“Looks like it’s just you and me, bloodsucker,” the voices all announce at once.

I roll my shoulders and face them. “Bring it the fuck on.”

As one, they all smile and rush toward me. Something slams into my shoulder, and I gasp for air as bright light all but blinds me. “What the fuck!” I shoot up, muscles quivering as my lungs burn.

“Easy.” Delaney’s soothing voice is the first thing I hear.

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