We approached cautiously. Among the strange remnants was a clock with no hands, its face cracked and glowing faintly. Nearby lay a mirror, but it didn’t reflect us—instead, it showed a shifting image of a boy and a girl, their faces flickering between familiarity and something alien. A book lay open, its pages blank except for a single word written in ink that seemed to move: Fate.
Willow crouched beside the mirror, her fingers hovering just above its surface. “It’s like... pieces of something. Pieces of us.”
I knelt beside her, my eyes narrowing at the boy in the mirror. His face shifted rapidly, morphing between my own and something feral, something darker. My wolf growled softly, uneasy. “Maybe this place is showing us what it wants. Or what it thinks we are.”
Willow’s gaze lingered
