The chill clung to her skin like a second heartbeat.
Ella didn't move. She couldn't. Her fingers gripped the windowsill so tightly her knuckles went white. That figure on the ledge… it had Ryan's profile—the slope of his jaw, the broadness of his shoulders, the cruel calm in the smirk he'd worn when they first met.
But Ryan was in bed.
Sleeping.
Right behind her.
She turned, heart in her throat. He was there, tangled in the sheets, chest rising and falling in slow rhythm. Real. Solid. Warm.
Then who the hell had she just seen?
She looked back out. The ledge was empty. The moon had slipped behind a cloud, casting the courtyard into darkness.
She waited. One second. Two. Ten.
Nothing.
Stillness.
She pressed her forehead to the cold glass, exhaling slowly. Maybe it was stress. Sleep-deprivation. Trauma. Her brain had been juggling fire and war and lust for days.
"Ella?"
Ryan's voice behind her, low and groggy. She turned. He rubbed sleep from his eyes, hair a mess of dark waves, the outline of his abs barely lit by the silver spill of moonlight.
"Hey," she whispered, walking back to him. "Go back to sleep."
He blinked. "You okay?"
She hesitated. "Yeah."
Lie.
She climbed into bed beside him, curling into his chest. He pulled her closer, burying his face in her hair.
But her eyes stayed open.
The image of that face—his face, not his face—burned into her memory.
---
The Next Morning – Dean's Office
Ella slammed the door open so hard the hinges rattled.
Leo spun around from the computer. "Jesus! You look like you haven't slept in—"
"I saw him." Her voice shook. "I saw someone outside Ryan's dorm last night. He looked exactly like Ryan. Not similar. Exact."
Leo's face dropped. "You're serious."
"As a heart attack."
He stood. "Okay. Let's rule things out—was it a mirror reflection? A trick of the light?"
"It wasn't my imagination, Leo. He smiled at me. Like he knew me."
Ryan stepped into the room, frowning. "What's going on?"
Ella's eyes met his. For a second, it was hard to breathe. "I saw someone who looked like you. On the west wing ledge."
His jaw tensed. "Describe him."
She did. In terrifying detail.
Leo sat slowly. "There's something I haven't told you."
Ryan growled. "Leo—"
"No, they deserve to know. Especially now."
Ella crossed her arms. "Spill it."
Leo sighed. "There's a rumor in the underground—code-name Mirror. A ghost operative. No past. No ID. No fingerprints. Paid in crypto. Never shows his face. But people say… he looks like Ryan."
Ella's blood ran cold.
Ryan stayed silent for a moment. Then, "That's not possible."
Leo shrugged. "It's why your father always used fake cameras and lookalike tech. He was hiding something—or someone. You don't think your family clones, do you?"
Ella's voice trembled. "Not clones. Twins?"
Ryan's knuckles went white against the table.
Ella turned to him. "Ryan… is it possible? Do you have a brother?"
"I don't know," he said slowly. "My father—he kept secrets. It wouldn't surprise me if I did."
****
Later That Day – School Courtyard
Ella sat alone on the marble bench, surrounded by whispers. Since Arthur Saint-James's fall, the academy had turned into a circus. Students walked around wide-eyed, waiting for the next bomb to drop.
And she felt like the fuse.
"Hey, chica."
She flinched. It was Leo, holding two coffees. He handed one to her.
"I added cinnamon," he said gently. "You like cinnamon, right?"
"Thanks." She took it, her hands still shaking.
Leo leaned in. "I know this sounds crazy, but if someone out there really is wearing Ryan's face, then we need to find out who he is… and why he's watching you."
"I thought it was over, Leo. I thought Arthur was the end."
Leo took a sip. "You're thinking in small scales. This is bigger. This is legacy war."
She stared into the trees. "Then we burn the legacy."
---
That Night – Ryan's Room
They kissed like addicts. Like people who didn't know if they'd live to see the sunrise.
His hands roamed her body with practiced reverence, memorizing every inch again, as if trying to confirm she was real.
But she pulled back, breathless. "Ryan. If there's someone out there who looks like you… if he's related to you…"
He traced his thumb across her jaw. "He's not me."
"I know that. But what if he wants me?"
Ryan's pupils dilated. "Then he dies."
She swallowed hard. "You'd kill for me?"
"I already have."
Her heart slammed against her ribs.
"I would again," he whispered. "And again."
She pulled him down onto her, tears streaming silently.
They didn't speak again that night. Their bodies did the talking.
---
Three Days Later – An Invitation
The envelope arrived sealed in wax. No return address. No name. Just a blood-red wax seal shaped like a wolf.
Ryan opened it. Inside: a single sheet of parchment.
> "To the boy who bears my face and the girl who carries fire in her veins—
Come to the rooftop. Midnight.
No tricks. No weapons. Just truth.
—M"
Ella looked at Ryan. "M for Mirror?"
"Or Monster."
They prepared anyway.
---
Midnight – Academy Rooftop
The wind howled like prophecy.
Ella stood beside Ryan, wrapped in a black leather jacket and determination. The rooftop was empty—until the clock struck midnight.
Then he stepped out of the shadows.
Ryan stiffened.
Ella's heart stopped.
It was like looking at a distorted reflection—this man was Ryan, but colder. Taller. Older. Wearing a dark trench coat and a lazy, wicked smile.
"Hello, little brother," the man said.
Ryan stepped forward. "No. No, you're not—"
"I am," the man said. "Half-blood, like you. Father's mistake. Mother's secret. Born in a lab, raised in a war zone."
Ella clutched Ryan's hand.
"You were the prince," Mirror said, voice like oil. "I was the shadow. You got the school. The girl. The life. I got rage."
Ryan growled, "Why show yourself now?"
"Because I want what you have." His eyes flicked to Ella. "All of it."
Ella's skin crawled.
Ryan stepped between them. "You touch her, you die."
Mirror laughed. "We'll see."
He turned. "You'll be seeing more of me soon."
Then he vanished into the night.
---
Back in Ryan's Room
Ella stared at her reflection in the mirror.
Same girl. Different war.
"I'm scared," she admitted.
Ryan came up behind her, wrapped his arms around her waist. "I'm not."
"Why?"
"Because I have something to lose now. And I will kill to keep it."
She looked up at him. "That's not love, Ryan."
"No," he said, lips brushing her ear. "That's obsession."
And she didn't know whether to run or fall harder.