POV: Yvonne I watch them through the security monitors, and the jealousy burns like acid in my chest. Thelma and Xavier stand together in the corridor outside the control room, his hand protective on her lower back, their heads bent close in conversation. Even through the grainy footage, I can see it. That invisible thread connecting them. The mate bond everyone talks about like it's some sacred, beautiful thing. "Why does she get that?" I whisper to the empty room. "Why does she get everything?" Because you're weak, Morgana's voice purrs in my mind. Because you've always been weak, little Yvonne. Second choice. Replacement daughter. Consolation prize. "Shut up," I snap, but my voice lacks conviction. The truth is, Morgana isn't wrong. She never is, not about this. And that's what ma

