Cold water ran down Kael's shoulders in harsh rivulets, biting into his skin, waking up every sore muscle the twins had left him with.
The steam barely clung to the air, evaporating too fast to soften the sting. He stood still in the shower's dim light, head tilted forward, hands braced on the wet tile.
His hazel eyes were narrowed, thoughts drifting—no, spiraling.
Freya and Rhea.
Were they in love with him—obsessively so? Or was it something else?
Jealousy? Competition?
He couldn't tell anymore.
He used to read them like open books.
Freya, always composed and in control, cold and precise like a scalpel. Rhea, impulsive and wild, a wildfire waiting for a spark.
But now they were… off.
Unpredictable.
Ever since they'd become close—friends, allies—something had shifted.
Rhea followed Freya like a shadow, always a step behind her, always watching.
Like she wasn't just a teammate now, but something more, like a little sister chasing her idol.
