Twin Alpha's Black Hearts

Godiva

The first thing I noticed wasn’t the time.

It was the eyes.

Two faint yellow glints in the dark corner of my room—like a cat’s, but too high, too still, too aware. I blinked hard. A car horn blared outside, and when I looked again, the corner was empty.

Just shadows. Probably just my imagination.

Then my alarm screamed.

I jolted upright. “Crap—seven already!”

The panic hit me like a punch. I threw off the thin blanket and scrambled out of bed, my bare feet slapping the cold floorboards. My room smelled faintly of dust and damp clothes—Aunt Caylee refused to fix the leaking window—and while I tried to smooth my hair down, voices from the kitchen erupted.

“Where is that useless girl?”

“Godiva! Get out here!”

Well. Good morning to me.

I forced my legs forward, each step heavier than the last. The moment I stepped into the kitchen, Aunt Caylee spun around. Her face was red, eyes blazing. Kayleigh, my cousin, stood behind her wearing the expression of someone who’d just kicked over a sandcastle and was waiting to watch the owner cry.

“What did you do to Kayleigh?” Aunt Caylee snarled.

Ah. The daily ritual. No breakfast needed.

“I didn’t do anything,” I said quietly, my fingers curling together. “I just…”

“That money you hid last night—don’t you dare lie. Where did you get it?”

My wrist throbbed where last night’s punishment had left angry marks. A reminder of a hundred-vora bill that went missing from her purse—one I actually saw Kayleigh pocket. But my word never won against hers.

“It was my bonus,” I said. “I need it for new shoes. Mine are ripping.”

Kayleigh scoffed. “Then you should work harder.”

I didn’t get to respond.

The bowl flew before I even saw her throw it. It smashed near my feet, shards glittering like ice. Pain shot through my temple where something clipped me, but I kept my chin up. Crying only made them hit harder.

“Give it to her,” Aunt Caylee demanded. “Or I’ll make last night look gentle.”

My pulse drummed painfully. Each vora bill I’d saved felt like a lifeline—one step closer to leaving this house forever. But I swallowed the bitterness and walked back to my room. My purse was thin. Pathetic. So was my pride, apparently.

I returned and handed Kayleigh the money. She smirked like I’d just served her a dessert.

“Now clean up this mess and make breakfast,” Aunt Caylee ordered. “Move.”

I moved like I always did.

But as I cracked eggs into the pan, I kept replaying the earlier moment in my room—the pair of yellow eyes watching me. It wasn’t like any nightmare I’d ever had. It felt… aware.

Like something was waiting for me to wake up.

**

Twenty minutes later, I was out the door with a quick goodbye no one answered. The morning air hit my bruised face, cold and sharp. I walked fast, every painful step reminding me how badly I