Chapter 13 - Shadows of a Twin

Lila’s POV

I watched the hall buzz with whispers, my lips pressed into a thin, bitter line. My nails dug into my palms as my eyes locked on her—Aria. Or Ivy Blackwood, as she now called herself. She stood there, radiant and untouchable, like she had never been the broken girl we had cast out. She looked graceful and powerful, wrapped in a life that I deserved.

And Connor…

My blood boiled just remembering the way he had looked at her. That unspoken awe in his eyes. He used to look at me like that—like I was everything he ever wanted. He had begged for me, worshipped me, practically crawled on his knees when I finally agreed to rule by his side.

I had watched Connor disappear through the doors, my mind racing.

He wasn’t thinking clearly, and I couldn’t let this go on any longer. He was mine. I had spent too long molding myself into the perfect Luna, earning the admiration of our pack, only for him to throw it all away over her.

Aria.

No. She wouldn’t win. Not again.

I clenched my fists, my teeth digging into my cheek as I thought of her smug face. She wasn’t the only one who could play games. If she thought she could come back into our lives, looking perfect and untouchable, she was dead wrong.

I perched on the windowsill of my room, staring out at the forest where moonlight spilled like silver over the dark trees. My nails dug into my palms as I clenched my fists, the sting grounding me while my thoughts spiraled. Ivy—Aria—was back? Why now?

My twin. My burden. My shadow.

She always had a way of stealing everything that was mine. From the day we were born, it had been the same story on repeat. Aria with her soft, weeping eyes and trembling lips. The fragile little girl who demanded the world’s pity, the one who survived being cast out like unwanted trash. Somehow, she’d returned. Flourished.

How?

How did the girl we’d thrown to the wolves come back stronger, sharper… untouchable? My stomach twisted as I thought of Connor.

Connor. The man I had wrapped around my finger, loyal, devoted—until today. I saw the way he looked at her. Not Ivy, not this poised and powerful version of my twin. He looked at Aria like she was the only thing that mattered.

I rose abruptly, my boots striking the floor with a crack that matched the storm building inside me.

She had everything now—wealth, power, Connor’s attention. The very life I’d spent years curating. My coronation as Luna was only three months away. It was supposed to be perfect, seamless. I had been patient, and played the role of his perfect mate.

But now Ivy had returned, and with her came chaos, doubt. My certainty wavered like a flame in the wind.

No.

This isn’t fair. I earned this life. Ivy had already been cast out, stripped of her place, and now she thought she could waltz back in and claim what was mine?

The thought made bile rise in my throat.

And yet, I couldn’t stop remembering. The days after she disappeared…

The relief.

My parents’ relief. My own.

For years, Ivy carried the blame for our brother’s death. A death I caused. I could still see his lifeless body, cold and still, as though time had frozen with him. My parents had found me crying, screaming, my hands stained in red. When they asked, I pointed at Aria.

She’d been the perfect scapegoat.

It wasn’t hard to convince them. Aria was the unwanted one—the stain on our family’s perfect image. Even when they disowned her, they believed they were doing the right thing. My guilt festered over the years, but I buried it, deeper and deeper until it became nothing but a shadow.

Until now.

I froze when I heard their voices drifting from the hallway below.

“She looked so graceful,” my mother said softly. “She’s still our daughter, Thomas. What if we were too harsh on her?”

My heart stopped.

My father’s voice cut through the air like a blade. “Harsh? That monster killed my only son. She’s no daughter of mine. I have one daughter—Lila.”

His words should have satisfied me, but they didn’t. My mother’s hesitation lingered in the air like poison.

“I just… I wonder if we failed,” she murmured.

I stiffened. Failed? Failed her? Rage burned hot in my chest, threatening to shatter my carefully maintained composure.

“She deserved what she got,” I whispered, the words leaving my mouth like venom.

Something had to be done. Ivy needed to disappear. Again.

I grabbed my jacket, my pulse pounding as I stormed down the stairs and out the door. The night air was cold against my skin, but I didn’t care.

The plan formed in my mind, dark and daring. Ivy was powerful now, but she’d always been soft. Weak at her core. What if I feigned repentance? What if I apologized, begged for forgiveness, played the role of a broken sister desperate to make amends?

She’d fall for it. I knew she would.

And then I’d set the trap.

Sell her to the rogues. This time, there’d be no survival, no triumphant return. She would vanish for good, and everything she’d stolen would fall back into place—into my hands.

I threw open the front door, stepping into the cool night air. My motorcycle gleamed under the moonlight, and I swung my leg over it in one fluid motion. The engine roared to life, echoing through the quiet forest as I sped toward the city.

As the wind whipped through my straight black hair, my mind raced with possibilities.

What if I took Aria’s place?

It sounded impossible. Crazy, even. But was it? I and Aria were twins—the same face, the same body type. The only differences were Ivy’s curly brown hair, that birthmark on her shoulder and the color of our eyes. That can be easily fixed, I thought, as my lips curled into a smirk.

I slowed my bike as the towering Blackwood Corporation came into view. The building glowed against the night sky, its presence a symbol of everything Ivy had taken for herself.

I parked the bike and stepped inside, covering my hair with my hoodie, my boots echoing through the pristine lobby.

The receptionist looked up, her eyes widening in confusion. “Miss… Ivy?”

I smiled—a slow, wicked smile that sent a shiver down the woman’s spine.

This will be too easy, I thought, as I stepped forward.

Too easy to become Ivy Blackwood.