Liam’s POV

The night clung to me like a second skin—cold, unforgiving, relentless. Even as I moved through the rooftops of Windshade Hollow, the town’s silence gnawed at me. My mind still couldn’t accept the truth. One more second in her presence, and I would have ripped her apart despite Ian’s words.

She wasn’t Mel.

A blunt reality I couldn’t ignore. Raina looked like her, fought like her—wild, determined—but she wasn’t the woman who turned me, the one who cursed me into this existence. The realization should have eased the tightness in my chest. It didn’t.

Even after everything, a part of me still loved Mel. I couldn’t bring myself to forget her face—that was why I hadn’t switched it off. I wanted to remember. Wanted to cling to what it once felt like. I didn’t hesitate—I wanted to find Raina. Maybe, just maybe, if I couldn’t have Mel, then….

Morning bled into the horizon by the time I caught a trail of Raina’s scent. I followed her, watched as she moved through the city delivering packages. Now that I knew she wasn’t Mel, their differences stood out.

Raina’s hair was always tied back in a ponytail—Mel let hers cascade freely, demanding attention. Raina kept to herself, absorbed in her own world—Mel reveled in being seen. I tracked her from the rooftops, careful not to get too close as she mounted her bike once again.

This time, there was no package. She didn’t stop at a house. Instead… she went to the town’s library.

I waited outside, hidden in the shadows. Even with my enhanced hearing, I couldn’t make out the conversation inside—not with Miss Dorothy there. To the townspeople, she was just a quirk librarian, but we knew better.

Two hours passed before Raina emerged, climbed onto her bike, and rode through the winding streets. It seemed like she would never stop, but I watched her anyway—the way she tilted her head back, letting the wind brush against her face. Time felt stretched, each moment dragging longer than the last. After what seemed like an eternity, she finally pulled into the driveway of a lonely bungalow, parking at the back. Her gaze lifted—calm, unbothered.

“Since when have you been following me?” she asked.

I lowered myself to the ground beside her, the air bending to my will. “Not too long.”

Her fingers tightened around the bike handles. “I’m not Mel.”

“I know.”

“Then why are you following me?” Her voice was sharp, but there was a flicker of caution beneath it.

I didn’t respond. I didn’t have an answer. Truth was, I wasn’t sure why I trailed her all day.

“I’m sorry.”

Her brows knitted in surprise before she quickly masked it. “For what?”

“For hurting you when it wasn’t your fault.”

Silence hung between us. I pressed on. “Now I’m certain you’re not her.” My gaze drifted to her lips, then back. “You may look like her, but you seem like the better version.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Umm.. thanks.” She jerked a thumb toward the house. “I’m going in now—my uncle will be wai—”

“He’s not in.”

“How did you—?”

“I have enhanced hearing, and I don’t hear any movement inside.”

She studied me, her jaw tight. I couldn’t explain it—the pull toward her—but the restraint I’d been clinging to was slipping. I turned to leave.

“Thank you,” she said softly.

I paused.

“For saving me last night. I never got to say thank you.”

Something about the sincerity in her voice, or maybe the way her hips swayed as she walked to unlock the door—shattered my last thread of control. Before she could push the door open, I was in front of her, blocking the entrance.

“What the—” she started, but I cut her off, my lips crashing into hers.

The hunger roared to life. My fingers tangled in her hair, holding her in place, and for a split second, she froze—then melted into me. The kiss deepened, her hands sliding into my hair, her body pressing closer.

I slammed her against the door, my grip firm on her waist. Her soft gasp sent a ripple of heat through me. I didn’t care about the streetlight casting us in a faint glow or the empty road behind us. My hand slid beneath her shirt, grabbing her breast. She moaned—quiet but enough to fuel the fire burning within me.

I lifted her effortlessly, trailing kisses down her neck. Her pulse thundered against my lips. My fangs extended, the urge to taste her unbearable.

“Do it,” she whispered, her breath hot against my ear.

I stiffened. My lips hovered over the nape of her neck. “Are you sure?”

Instead of answering, she pulled me into another searing kiss. My fangs grazed her bottom lip, drawing a drop of blood. She gasped—but there was no fear, only wild, unrelenting hunger.

The taste of her blood ignited something feral. I couldn’t stop myself. I sank my teeth into her neck.

A guttural sound escaped her lips as I drank, her body tensing beneath me. She clutched my shirt, fingers digging into the fabric, a shudder running through her—not from fear, but something else. Her breathing quickened, soft pants against my ear, and for a moment, I couldn’t tell if she was in pain or lost in the sensation. Each swallow burned through me, more intense than anything I’d ever felt. But then—

The burn spread.

What started as a slow heat in my chest flared into a violent, searing pain. I felt like my insides were being scorched. I tore myself away from her, staggering back.

Her expression twisted into confusion. “Liam? Your face… it’s scaring me.”

I couldn’t respond. The pain—no, the poison—coursing through my veins was all too familiar.

It was the same sensation I’d felt the first time I kissed her. The slow burn, then the wildfire.

There was no mistaking it. No matter how much I didn’t want to believe it, the truth blazed through me.

Raina was a devourer.

The words echoed in my mind as I fled, my body still reeling from her blood.

I didn’t make it far. Two blocks away, I collapsed against a wooden fence, my vision blurring.

A teenage girl on a bicycle skidded to a stop in front of me. “Are you okay?”

I shook my head, wanting to tell her to run—but it was too late. It was either her or me.

My eyes darkened, fangs lengthening. Her mouth opened to scream, but I moved faster.

Before she could react, I grabbed her, sinking my teeth into her neck.

Warm blood flooded my senses, dulling the burning ache. My strength returned, my skin regaining its pale hue. I didn’t want to kill her—but I couldn’t stop.

As her body crumpled to the ground, guilt clawed at me.

But the horror of what I’d just uncovered overshadowed the regret.

Raina wasn’t just dangerous to my kind.

She was death itself. Over again.