Dear Enemy, You're My Mate

Chapter 42 **

Older Dior

Love makes us weak and brings us down to our knees, but the lack of it is worse—loneliness makes us do scary things, Alice, and if there is any emotion stronger than hate and love combined, its possessiveness, the seed growing within me.

"I'm sorry," I drag a cold hand over Alice's face, closing her eyelids. I mull over my following words before speaking them, despite knowing the witch put into trance can't possibly hear me from her mental prison. "I lied to you, little witch, and while that was always my intention, I never expected to care about you. You're my only friend, Alice."

I'm speaking the truth. After my pack members died in the battle against June, I never thought my heart would grow to care about another person whose name isn't Patricia.

I was wrong.

Alice is a fresh breeze in my life. She makes me laugh when everything is dark, but my mind is already set. I want Patricia to be mine—together, we can take over the world.

After the mating ritual is over, my powers will grow even more potent. I will become mightier than anyone before me. Nobody will be strong enough to defeat me, meaning I can effortlessly finish the council members one by one. They will pay in blood for chasing me like a rabies-infected dog spreading the disease.

Yes, I will burn them down to the ground and live in a world where my friends are still alive. I'm not a murderer, but if Dior gets hated enough, perhaps I can take over his life.

"Don't take too long in the shower—I don't like to wait, princess!"

Patricia snarls. "Long hair takes time to wash, Lavigne! Sit down and stop stressing me out!"

My eyes skitter to the wall. The other me and Patricia seem to finally have climbed up from the bathtub, which means I can put my nefarious plan into motion.

Oh, how I've longed for this! An aching need to see my future luna makes a broad smile spread over my lips—time to do the devil's work.

I walk out through Alice's room, using the shadows to lock the door behind me. I'm then set for Patricia's room, aware of the woman probably showering for far longer than the other me.

I never gave up on Patricia, meaning I will need to tear the other me and Patricia apart to make the woman all mine. I have to destroy whatever trust has been built between the two of them. And since Alice would disapprove of my plan, I got rid of her.

My new friend seems to like the other Dior, so I put her to sleep. When she wakes up, the witch will think my powers didn't work—I promised to send Alice into William's dream, which I didn't do.

Sucking in a deep breath, I knock on the door and listen as heavy footfalls approach it. The handle gives a slight click, and then I'm with a clone of myself staring straight back at me. Confusion wrinkles the other me's forehead until the poor idiot stands there, looking me up and down without getting any saner.

"Who are-..." Dior's lips part when I smile at him, and it's as if an inner voice tells him I mean trouble because I can see his arm reaching out to close the door.

Of course, I won't let him.

My foot press between the door and doorframe, and then a flock of shadows snicker as I let them seize my enemy. The other me tries to teleport as soon as hands and darkened limbs reach around his ankles, making my smile falter—I immediately click with my fingers, summoning more shadows.

"Cover his mouth," I order my little helpers as I study the other me's sullen eyes and suspicion. "Wow! I'm impressed! It took me years before I learned the gist of my power and awakened, but you're already teleporting! Still, you're not nearly powerful as I am—you should have finished that mating ritual with Patricia."

The other Dior only glares at me while my helpers cover his body, and I breathe a laugh, shaking my head at how easy this will be. I thought the other Dior would put up more of a fight!

"I bet you have questions, such as why I'm doing this?" My lips part into a smile as I scratch beneath my chin. "Well, the answer is obvious. I want Patricia, so I'm sending you into the shadow realm—getting back here is somewhat complicated, but I'm sure you will figure it out."

I step closer, touching the face of the younger me to mimic his appearance and freak him out. My wrinkles disappear, and I lose an inch or two—not that it matters. I only intend to keep up the charade until I've managed to break Patricia's heart.

"Don't worry, dear," I whisper, winking saucily at the other Dior. He tries to fight the shadows, entirely red in the face, but his sad attempts are vain. "Once I've finished my mission, and Patricia no longer loves you, then I will let you come back to this world. Someone must wear the face of the villain, and it won't be me."

I lean back from the other Dior and then snap my fingers, watching as a portal opens beneath my clone's feet. His eyes open wide, but the shadows muffle his screams, and I throw him a juicy kiss goodbye before the hatch closes on the floor.

Humming to myself, I wipe my hands on my new jeans and turn around, only to be met with a staring Elijah. He is standing by the wall, blinking at me, and I immediately plaster a smile onto my lips. The vampire would be yelling if he saw me send the other Dior away, right?

"Good morning," I say, hoping I'm acting like the other Dior and that I seem convincing. "Did you sleep well?"

Elijah narrows his eyes but smiles nevertheless. "I'm a vampire—I never sleep. How could you have forgotten?"

Fuck-fuck-fuck!

It's been a long time since I've been around Elijah. My old friend is dead in my realm, and I instantly wonder if I've screwed things up in less than ten minutes of pretending to be the younger me. The vampire is squinting at me like I've grown two heads!

"The woman has blinded you, sir," Elijah states with judging eyes and his nose held high. "I like lady Patricia, but please, keep your brain in check before we ought to have your mind evaluated by a professional. Beautiful women aren't to be played with—my father would know."

Does Elijah have a father?!

WHAT!

I thought the guy was ancient!

"Uh..." I wet my lips. "I never knew you had a father."

"Oh, I had one before I became a vampire," Elijah says and proceeds to walk over to me with a few towels. He gives them to me with curious eyes roaming me up and down. "I figured there weren't enough towels for two people, and after all the noise, I thought you may need one."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome," Those red eyes linger on mine for a long moment before the vampire turns around. I've never sweated this much in my entire life. "I'm making pancakes for Wesley, the only thing I'm able to cook without burning the kitchen. If you and your lady are hungry, you may join us downstairs."

"Oh!" Patricia chirps from behind me. She is wrapped in a towel but grabs another one from my arms, smiling up at me. "Great, I need one for my hair, or else it never gets dry!"

Bright, lively eyes peer into mine, and I freeze. A frown forms on Patricia's round face, and she even takes a step back as if being able to sense something is different about the Dior standing in front of her.

Elijah begins walking away from the scene. "I will see the two of you downstairs!"

Without breaking the staring contest, I reply. "We will be right there. Save some pancakes for us."

Patricia glances at the vampire, then let her eyes flash back to mine with lightning speed. "You seem-..."

When she doesn't finish her sentence, I crack a huge smile. "What?"

Confusion seeps into her features. "Nothing... I'm just tired," she waves off her earlier sentence with her hand. "Eating pancakes sounds good, even though I'm not sure about trusting a vampire's cooking."

I flash her a megawatt smile. "Elijah is good at making breakfast food. Wesley has a terrible morning mood, and without caffeine, he is a walking natural disaster waiting to strike. Therefore, Elijah cooks him breakfast, so no person gets to witness the wrath of his mate."

Patricia seems to relax, and I watch her slump her shoulder with a hesitant smile taking her lips. My knowledge about Wesley and Elijah must have removed her earlier distrust.

"If that is the case, then I'm eating two plates of pancakes!"

Patricia's stomach gurgles as if agreeing with her plan, and her cheeks flush bright red. I stifle a laugh, knowing not to make the situation even harder on her. My idea is to break her heart by being an asshole, but I think it can wait until tomorrow.