LYRA

The dark version of myself circled me like a predator assessing prey. She moved exactly like I did because she was me, every technique and habit and instinct reflected back in shadowed form.

"You can pretend all you want," she said, her voice my voice but stripped of any warmth. "Pretend you're just a survivor, just an omega trying to live long enough to see her mother again, pretend the Selection is something you endured rather than something you manipulated."

"I'm not pretending," I ...