"You poor, pitiful thing," the dark voice hissed, dripping with venom. "No one has even bothered to look for you in days. Do you still cling to the delusion that your sister gives a damn about you?"
Riona had not shown up for some days now, even though her usual routine included persistently sitting outside his room at all hours—morning and night—pleading for him to let her in.
This absence followed the full moon hunt, a time when Riona had been preoccupied with the pups who clung to her at every opportunity.
But Florian didn't know this truth, and even if he did know, the dark voice would distort reality to serve its own twisted ends.
The voice persisted, relentless in its attack. "She doesn't care, and neither does anyone else. Only I am left for you. Haven't you figured that out yet?"
It used the same strategy, the same words, the same content, and yet, the dark voice succeeded in blurring the lines.
