"What?" I say in disbelief.
"I'm not Cyran," he repeats. As if this absurd statement needs any repeating.
I look him in the eyes and I let out an uneasy chuckle. "Why are you doing this? Are you trying to mess with me, is that it?"
"I'm his brother, Cayden."
I search his face. It can't be. This is Cyran. Same eye color, same facial structure. Same everything. Shoulder-length black hair, broad shoulders. No, this must be some kind of joke. "This isn't the time for games. Your uncle tried to kill me."
He pauses and narrows his eyes at me. "Never call that impostor my uncle again." There's hate in his words. A lot of it. "We don't speak of him here."
I keep watching him intently. Physically, they're identical, but there's something different. Just a single thing. There's a thin scar across his eyebrow that wasn't there the last time I saw him. "When did you get that scar?" I thought werewolves didn't scar. What is the meaning of this?
