Ryker and Darian were on the floor, groaning in pain. The white light from the fake Lyra was like a sun that only wanted to hurt wolves. It was a light that knew our secrets and used them against us.
I stood in the middle of the room. My skin felt cold. The black marks on my arms were pulsing, but I felt a new kind of fear. This wasn't a monster from a forest. This was a monster made by people who used math and wires to steal my life.
"Get up," I whispered to the boys, but they couldn't move. Their bodies were shaking. The fake light was making their wolves feel like they were being burned alive.
The fake Lyra—the Prototype—stepped out of the broken glass. It walked just like me. It moved its hands just like me. But when it spoke, the voice was flat and hollow.
"You are a mistake, Lyra
