𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐄
Daria's voice brooked my spiraling thoughts.
I turned to her, wide-eyed, as she began to gush about Mikhail, but my churning mind refused to tune her in as she droned on and on.
I flinched as she took my hand and hooked hers in mine, but if she noticed, she did not show it.
We went down the elevator, and I found myself looking through the crowds still shouting through the glass of the elevator, searching for the man who had called me "sister."
I had only one douche of a brother, and he was in the human realm.
The brother I knew did not look eerily like a male version of me—the same amber eyes and the bronze streaks through dark, slicked-back hair.
Our similarities were startling enough to press against me like a physical weight. I could ignore his words, but not what I saw.
Worse, he had Kustav's cruel, lopsided smile that always seared my soul with loathing.
"...Ma petite?"
