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“Preston Willows has never seen this woman before. An anonymous plus-one he’ll dismiss because he’s too busy fantasizing about what he wants to do to you.” His voice came out sharp through his clenched teeth.

As much as I hated to admit it, there was a flutter in my chest whenever he got jealous like that.

I stared wide-eyed at my reflection, stunned by the fact that I finally understood the full capabilities of my glamour.

I really am powerful, I thought. Layne really did have my back in all of this, and I’d discounted him so many times.

The borrowed face stared back at me from the mirror, snagging on Layne’s gaze as he watched me in the reflection.

“Now…turn it off,” he said, leaning in, his breath hot against my neck.

Seeing him that close to a stranger, someone who wasn't me, stirred a sharp jealousy in my chest, which was ridiculous, considering it was still me underneath it all. But still, Layne Murrows was mine now, right?

Get it together, Evie.

“Gladly,” I groaned, “But how? It usually just happens whenever I go back into the water.”

“Cut the connection in your mind,” he replied with ease. “Don't overthink it, darling.”

Oh, don't overthink it? Sure, no problem.

I closed my eyes, imagining the glamoured skin sloughing away and fading into mist, just as it did when I was on land.

The tingle of magic returned, then quickly faded.

Upon opening my eyes, I found my familiar reflection staring back at me. Layne stood close behind, his body pressed tight against mine.

Our gaze met in the mirror as I studied my reflection. My true self—black scales, sharp claws, and all—nestled against his darkness. Fitting together like two pieces from the same fucked-up puzzle.

Good. Back to how things should be.

Layne moved in front of me, his form haloed in golden light emitting from the mirror at his back.

“You did beautifully, my queen.”

A smile tugged at my lips, despite myself. “Well, I suppose I have to give credit to the teacher, don't I?”

He smiled wickedly, and my heart raced. He pulled me closer, leaning down until his lips met mine.

Unlike our first kiss, which was raw with power, this one was slower and gentler—both a promise and a claim in equal measure.

Heat flooded through me as his mouth explored my own. I wrapped my hands around his neck as I trailed my fingers across the scars that marred his back, pulling myself deeper into his kiss.

“My beautiful, powerful queen,” he growled against my lips. His lips left my mouth as he slowly worked his way down my neck, his tongue running along my skin. He trailed from my throat to my collarbone, resting at the tiny space underneath my chin. He explored every inch, savoring the taste of me.

My hands dragged across his wide back, and I could barely get my arms around him.

As my eyes fluttered open, I caught our entangled reflection in the mirror behind him. Layne's mouth on my throat, my fingers tangled in his hair, completely consumed.

With a few traitorous heartbeats, the image in the mirror shifted. Sandy blonde hair filled my hand instead of Layne’s dark locks, and the rippling muscles of Ethan’s back and biceps grasping me. His soft lips kissed along my neck with even softer eyes looking at me with that hopeful longing.

Damnit, I thought. That’s over with now.

I quickly pressed my eyes shut and shook my head. Opening them back, I returned to the heat of Layne’s mouth on me.

The dark veins across his back looked less prominent than I remembered. And his scars? The long jagged lines that were carved on his skin were definitely more faded now, the tissue smoother and less angry-looking.

“Your scars,” I said, pulling back to look at him. “They’re…better?”