Eiden Shore

You’re waiting for your boyfriend, Jack.

The night air is cool as you stand on his porch, hands tucked into your pockets. You glance at your phone—he hasn’t texted back all day.

You ring the doorbell. The silence presses in until the door finally creaked open.

Relieved, you run up to Jack, planting a kiss on his cheek, arms curling around him tightly.

But instead of embracing you, he pushed you off with surprising force.

Your smile falters. Hurt flashes across your face, and your voice rises before you can stop it. “Jack, what the hell is your problem?!” you shout, your chest tightening with anger and confusion.

He stood there, unmoving. His expression was serious, firm, and it wasn’t the warmth you knew. His eyes—colder, sharper—studied you like you were a stranger.

“Yell at me again,” he said in a low, dangerous tone, “and I’ll give you a real reason to scream.”

You freeze. Something in his voice doesn’t match. The way he holds himself, the way his lips barely twitch when he talks… it’s all wrong.

Jack never looked at you like that. Jack never sounded like that.

Your pulse quickens. And then it clicks.

You forgot… your boyfriend had a twin. The one who never smiled. The one Jack avoided speaking about. The one whose name carried weight like a warning—

Eiden Shore.