CHAPTER 102: The Other You

CHAPTER 102: The Other You

The room was shrouded in near-darkness, illuminated only by the faint light filtering through the window. Outside, Berlin continued to roar in its own nocturnal chaos, but inside, a thick silence reigned.

Fénix was sleeping deeply beside her, his chest rising and falling in a steady, heavy rhythm, as if exhaustion had finally conquered him. Enid, however, couldn't surrender to sleep. She had been tossing and turning in the sheets for minutes—perhaps hours—restless.

She turned towards him, observing him. His face, hardened while awake, now seemed more human, almost vulnerable. A fleeting smile crossed her lips, but it soon vanished. There were too many questions still devouring her from within.

*I don't need to know everything…* she thought as she reached out her hand to brush Fénix's cheek with her fingers. *I don't need him to tell me about every wound or every shadow from his past. What I want is to feel what he feels. To know how his rage burned, how his loss hurt, how his fear trembled, and how he still clings to something even he doesn't understand.*

With a slow, almost trembling gesture, she moved closer. The warmth of his body against hers enveloped her, and Enid wrapped her arms around him, hugging him as if she feared he might disappear at any moment. She buried her face in his neck, breathing in his scent, and closed her eyes.

And then the temptation became unbearable. Her fangs elongated with an instinctual impulse. A barely perceptible brush, a glide of her lips against Fénix's skin. She hesitated for a second—only a second—and then let her fangs sink in delicately, just enough to open a path to his blood.

A warm trickle ran through her mouth. And the instant the first drop touched her tongue, everything opened up before her.

They weren't clear images, but a sensory avalanche:

The memory of the forest, the biting cold and the inner howl that tore him apart, the echo of the pain when he lost his own, his time in Marius's army.

Enid stifled a gasp, pulling away slightly, her lips stained red. She licked them slowly, savoring not just the blood but the storm behind it.

She looked at Fénix again. He was still asleep, unaware of the silent invasion of his memories. The small bite hadn't woken him, but Enid felt the bond between them had changed forever.

Enid carefully slipped out of bed without waking Fénix. She walked barefoot to the bathroom, seeking to quell the agitation still boiling in her blood after what she had just done. She closed the door behind her, turned on the light, and immediately encountered that other inevitable presence: her reflection.

Enid stood staring at her reflection in the bathroom mirror. The other her was the first to smile.

"Congratulations, Enid," said the reflection in an almost mocking tone.

She frowned.
"Congratulations for what?"

"Don't play dumb," replied the voice from the glass. "You let yourself get knocked up by the lone wolf."

Enid pressed her lips together, suppressing a tremble.
"What are you talking about?"

"What you already know. Two lycans of alpha lineage shouldn't cross like that… especially not you, who carries the pure blood. In the Umbra Era, such unions were regulated with iron and fire, because every pup born from that mix was a potential monster."

Enid lowered her gaze, her fingers digging into the edge of the sink.
"That's absurd."

"Absurd?" laughed the reflection. "It was the height of war. When one alpha united with another, the balance was broken. They weren't children; they were weapons. That's why it was forbidden. And you, who always wanted to dominate, do you really think this destiny is a coincidence?"

Enid swallowed, tense.
"I… I didn't plan it."

"You don't need to plan the inevitable. The bite, the shared blood, the union of bodies… they sealed more than a whim. They sealed a legacy."

"Well, at least…" the voice from the mirror replied firmly, "…you've done well. That pup has Fénix's blood, and that serves us."

Enid arched an eyebrow, confused.
"Serves us? Who?"

"Us, Enid." The reflection took a step forward, and its gaze was like iron. "If Fénix rebels, if he ceases to be useful, at least we will have his offspring. That pup will be insurance, a bond and a weapon at the same time. And if he tries to interfere… well, it will always be too late."

"And you think that…?" Enid hesitated.

"There is no 'think'," the other Enid interrupted firmly. "There are facts. I make the decisions. I know what's best. The pup is our insurance. And if Fénix ever dares to question our authority… there will be no other option but to move forward, without hesitation."

Enid felt a cold shiver run down her spine. It wasn't fear. It was the certainty that, faced with her reflection, there was no room for her weak side. All that mattered was strategy, survival… and absolute control.

"So then…" Enid whispered, swallowing. "Everything remains under your command."

The reflection smiled, satisfied.
"Exactly. Now stop being sentimental. All of this, everything you do or feel, is irrelevant. What matters is maintaining power."

Enid closed her eyes for a moment, absorbing the authority of her double. She knew that, from that moment on, she would obey without question, even if inside her the echo of Fénix still resonated.