KAEL'S POV
The thing wearing Ayla's face smiled.
Not her real smile—the one that lifted soft at the edges, warm as dawn. This smile was hollow, all teeth, like a mask stretched too thin.
"Why, Kael?" it whispered, stepping closer. "Why always fight me? Why bleed for me? Don't you see? You'll never save me."
The chamber vibrated with its voice, stone grinding against stone, like the mountain itself agreed.
I bared my teeth. My claws trembled at my sides, every instinct demanding I tear it apart. But a sliver of doubt slid under my skin, poisonous and sharp.
What if this was her? What if I couldn't tell anymore?
Behind me, the real Ayla stirred, a weak groan clawing up her throat. The sound snapped the thread of hesitation.
I snarled, lunging, and my claws ripped through the imposter's chest.
