At twelve years old, I killed my mother and found my father dead in the bathtub. I didn’t mean to; at least, that’s what I tell myself. Years of neglect, cruelty, and being told I wasn’t really her daughter pushed something inside me past the point of return. When she stood over me with a shattered wine glass, I snapped. Sometimes I think I regret it. Other times, I wonder if she was right—if I was never meant to be human at all. That was a lifetime ago. I’ve spent years learning how to hide the monster that came out that night. But monsters recognize their own. When my violence resurfaces and blood stains my hands once again, someone notices. Someone who saw me back then too, only he hadn’t found me yet. Larkin never pretended to be anything but a monster. For years, he’s carved a path through the Pacific Northwest, hunting the girl who unknowingly stole his first kill. Instead of ending me, he draws me into a deadly game—one I shouldn’t enjoy, no matter how intoxicating it feels to let go with him, to beg for my hands to be soaked in more blood. As the bodies pile up and Larkin makes it clear he has no intention of leaving, and one truth becomes impossible to ignore. If he brings the monster in me back to life, I may never be able to cage her again. And the most terrifying part? I’m not sure I want to.