“You thought I was dead,” Davina finished for me, her tone cool. She stepped closer, her eyes flicking briefly to the untouched food before settling back on me. “You thought I died in the pack war.”
I nodded, still stunned. “I mourned your death. Everyone said you didn’t make it, that you were caught in the attack. I never... I never thought I’d see you again.”
She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Well, here I am.”
For a moment, I couldn’t move. The joy, the relief, the disbelief—it all washed over me in a tidal wave. My twin sister, the one person I had loved more than anyone else in the world, was alive. I rushed toward her, throwing my arms around her in a tight embrace.
“I can’t believe it,” I said, tears filling my eyes. “I thought I’d lost you forever.”
But as I held her, something felt off. Davina’s body was stiff in my arms, her embrace cold and unfeeling. Slowly, I pulled back, searching her face for the warmth, the love we used to share. But her eyes—those eyes that mirrored my own—were distant, almost calculating.
“I’ve been here for a while,” she said, her voice oddly flat. “Pierre brought me back after the war. Maybe because he thought I was you.”