Serenya's POV
His hand lands on my shoulder just as I slip the ring on.
“Serenya?”
My body locks up. For a split second, I forget to breathe. The ring burns faintly against my skin as the magic settles. When I turn around, I already feel it—my face not quite mine, the shimmer gone, my voice ready in my throat.
Kaelen stands there, frowning like he’s trying to solve a puzzle. His hair is a little messy, shirt half untucked. He looks tired, and for some reason, that makes my pulse jump harder.
“Wait,” he says, squinting. “You—”
“I think you’ve got the wrong person,” I cut in, too fast, too sharp. Thankfully, my voice sounds steady, calm even. It feels strange and wonderful and terrifying all at the same time.
His brow furrows deeper. “I'm sorry. You dress exactly like her. Same hair.
