Twice Born

Chapter 11

I stare at them, my mouth hanging open. When Gregor and his wife continue to look back at me with unapologetic expressions, I begin to protest. “No! It can’t be. You must be mistaken.” I cling to a desperate hope. “I know a Freed who’s a dominant like me. His name is Tristan. He’s a Nightborn, but he was the dominant half.”

“You’re the one who is mistaken, girl,” Gregor scoffs. “Either that or your friend lied to you. It’s not possible for a dominant to eclipse its shadow.”

“Why not?”

“Anger and desperation for freedom fuel these shadows.” He places his cup on the small table between us and leans back in his chair. “You won’t know what it feels like to fight for something with every fiber of your being until it’s dangling just out of reach, tempting and mocking you for endless years. That’s the way it is for shadows. They are stronger than you simply because they don’t have what you do.”

I turn away from his frightening eyes, toward his wife. Her silence confirms his words. She would know firsthand everything he says. She did, after all, suppress her other half and extinguish her life.

A killer.

That’s what she is. That’s what Tristan is.

My eyes snap back to him. “So why did you bring me here? To tell me that I’m going to die?”

“Isn’t this something you would want to know?”

“I want to know how to survive,” I say through gritted teeth. “There must be something.”

“I’m afraid there is no easy solution,” Celine says. Her gaze shifts to the window. “Gregor is right. Your other half has an advantage over you because she wants to claim this body more than you do. More than that, she knows you. Your fears, your flaws, your limitations. She has spent your whole life studying you.”

I think of what Eve did before she knocked me unconscious. Flooding me with her memories to break me down. Celine is right. Eve knows me too well, and in my current state, I won’t be able to defeat her. “Don’t you mean she has spent her whole life studying me? Eve began to have awareness when I was nine.” After my parents’ murder.

Gregor chuckles. “The shadows around you have you fooled quite well, don’t they? Shadows have awareness from birth. This Eve was with you from the beginning, but she probably wasn’t able to reach out to you until the age of nine.”

I massage my forehead, my cut beginning to throb. I’m unable to comprehend my boundless gullibility. “Why would she lie?”

“I can’t speak for her,” Celine replies, “but having been in similar circumstances, I can say that it was difficult to share my vulnerabilities with my other half. I spent too long imprisoned in a body that wasn’t mine to control. The worst part was when she pitied me. I didn’t want that.”

“Instead you wanted her gone.”

Celine’s eyes narrow. “What is this? Did you come into my house to cast accusations?”

“No,” I say, startled. “I’m only trying to make sense of things.”

“You’re judging me.” Her fingers curl into fists in her lap. “I can see it in your eyes.”

I cry out when the cup in my hand explodes. Hot tea splashes my face and neck, and jagged pieces of ceramic cut into my palms, drawing blood.

Gregor is beside me in a flash, ushering me toward the door. “You should take your leave now, Bree.”

“Wait, I’m sorry,” I gasp, holding my throbbing hands in front of me. “Please—I need you to tell me how to stop Eve.” I haven’t even broached the other important topic. “And Henry—I have to find my brother!”