I scream,jerking away from Andrik—except—Andrik is also standing across the room.
My mind goes white.I look from the bed to the other, my head whipping back and forth until the world begins to spin.
Two of them.There are two of them?
The massive Rhavariglaring at us from the missing wall is a vision of slaughter. His white fur is matted with dark, frozen blood. His antlers are lowered, his chest heaving with fury. His eyes are blazing with feral, incandescent light.
“What?”I can’t breathe. The room feels like a coffin. “How—Andrik?”
The one inthe doorway roars.
The sound is devastating—aprimal soul-shaking bellow that shatters the remaining windowpanes and makes the floorboards jump.
“Lumi, stay behind me,”the one on the bed says, his voice shaking. “Don’t look at it. It’s a trick.”
“Trick?”the other Andrik’s voice booms. He takes a step onto the splintered wood, his claws gouging the floor. “You wore my skin to touch my soul. You crawled into my life like a parasite. And now, you will die in it.”
47
Chapter 48-
Lumi POV cont-
They collide with a thunderous sound.
The bed framecracks beneath me, wood shrieking as I scramble backward, dragging the sheet with me, trying to cover my nakedness.
I feellike a ghost caught in a blizzard.
Two Andriks.Two.
They’re tearinginto each other with claws and fangs, a blur of white fur and blood splatter. I can’t tell them apart. It’s like watching a man fight his shadow in a mirror—except neither of them are men.
They havethe same massive reach, the same massive antlers, the same eyes burning with freezing, blue light.
My chest heaves—whatdo I do?
Heat claws through my blood,a cruel hormonal fire that won't die even as terror floods my veins.
How is this possible?Why didn’t he tell me? Was it him all along?
One of themslams the other into the last remaining wall. The impact cracks the wood like an eggshell. The cottage groans, leaning into the wind.
“Lumi! Run—”
The voice comesfrom the one pinned against the wall. It’s rough, choked with blood and desperation.
But the other one,the one who shielded me, snarls and drives his claws into the first one’s shoulder.
“She’s not going anywhere,”he roars.
That voice...it’s a perfect copy.
I pressmyself against the headboard, clutching the sheet until my knuckles ache.
Think.Think.
The bond—Itry reaching for it, that invisible thread that tethers his soul to mine—but it‘s a mess of static. It feels muted, pulled in two directions.
