They Called Me A Defective Copy Of My Sister Chapter 08

They Called Me A Defective Copy Of My Sister Chapter 08

The smell of something burning woke me up. I stumbled into the kitchen and found Silas standing over a smoking pan, looking like he’d just lost a war.

His tail – that big, proud, silver-white tail – was dragging across the floor like a wet rag.

When he saw me, guilt flickered across his face.

“Uh… what does Vance usually have for breakfast?” He raked a hand through his hair, making the already messy blond hair worse – an absolute rat’s nest.

“There were eggs in the fridge, so I thought…” He’d nearly set the kitchen on fire.

Vance couldn’t cook either, but Vance didn’t try. He just sat down and waited for someone to

put a plate in front of him.

A man who could take on ten fighters in a cage – defeated by two eggs.

I swallowed the laugh before it reached my face, feigned a sleepy expression, and waved him

aside. “Just let me.”

I took the spatula, cracked two fresh eggs into the pan, and had them done in under a

minute. Silas hovered behind me. Then, out of nowhere –

“Hazel… is it a dealbreaker? If a mate can’t cook?”

The question came out of nowhere. But I heard what he was really asking. He wasn’t talking

about Vance.

If he became Ruby’s mate – a man who only knew how to fight, whose body was mapped

with scars, who couldn’t even fry an egg – would she look down on him for it?

I turned off the burner and set the plate in front of him. Then I met his eyes.

“Cooking doesn’t matter. What matters is that you showed up in this kitchen at six in the

morning and tried.”

“The rest is just details, Silas. As long as it’s real.”

Something opened behind his eyes. He looked away fast, like I’d touched a nerve, and his voice dropped to a mumble.

“Oh.” A pause. “Okay.”

After breakfast, his phone buzzed. Ruby.

He had to show up at Ruby’s – as her newly matched mate, he needed to run through the

system’s verification face-to-face.

He lingered by the door. “I, uh… I won’t be back tonight.”

He was watching my face the whole time, reading me. “There’s some stuff I need to handle

at Ruby’s.”

I nodded and reached up to fix his tie where it had gone crooked. My fingers brushed his

throat, and he stopped breathing.

“Go. Be safe.” My voice was steady. The rest of me wasn’t.

I knew where he was headed. And I knew that Vance was already there, wearing Silas’s name,

sitting beside Ruby.

The game had only just begun. After he left, the house went hollow.

I sank into the couch and unlocked my phone, scrolling to a photo I’d saved years ago and

never told anyone about. A stolen shot.

Blurry, almost useless – just the back of a boy, his outline soft with motion. 07.

Silas. My thumb traced the shape of him on the glass.

I knew it was you the moment you walked through my door. But Silas – when you pretended not to recognize me, were you doing the same thing I was?

Lying awake at night, running your fingers over a face you couldn’t reach?

My phone buzzed. A text from Ruby. One line.

[He’s here.]

Attached: a photo of a hand clasped in hers. Between his thumb and forefinger – a jagged scar, old and ugly. From barbed wire. He’d gotten it pulling me free, years ago.

My chest seized. Vance’s hands were smooth, unmarked – not a single scar on them.

Only Silas had that scar. Ruby was either showing off — or sending me a message.

Did she know Silas was 07? Or was this just Ruby being Ruby – rubbing what was hers in my face?

I stared at the photo for a long time. Then I typed back.

[Congratulations, Ruby.]

I set the phone facedown and looked out the window. This game of masks and trades.

It was just getting started.