Lennox's POV
He leaned in close, his face barely inches from mine.
"You make it feel like he's here," he hissed. "That's the problem."
My heart slammed violently against my ribs.
"What?" I asked quietly.
"You walk like him," Louis continued, his voice trembling with rage and anger. "You stand like him. You watch everything like him. And when you fought… Moon above—you fought like him."
His eyes burned into mine.
"And your aura," he went on, anger mixing with pain. "It's wrong. Too strong for a guard. Too familiar. Every time you're near, it feels like my brother is standing right behind me."
His grip trembled.
"You're not supposed to feel like that," he said. "You're not supposed to feel like family."
The word hit me harder than the wall.
Family.
My chest tightened painfully.
Louis swallowed hard, his jaw working like he was trying not to lose control.
"So tell me," he demanded, "why does being near you make it feel like Lennox never left?"
