Among The Impostors Book の小説・ストーリー

The realization that he had been berated and ordered around by an impostor for all this time ignited a fury within him that he could hardly contain Clifford gritted his teeth, demanding, "Where's the impostor?" With crocodile tears streaming down her face, Larissa halted her crying to explain, "I was planning to continue the interrogation when the impostor barely uttered a word before suddenly dying, blood streaming from all orifices. It tampered ." She didn't intend to reveal the strange worm found inside the impostor's brain, aware that her alliance with Clifford was based on mutual interests rather than trust. Upon hearing this, Clifford's mind went blank.

“This is terribly insane. You all can’t seriously believe a madwoman who obviously has no idea what she is saying at all. An imposter, paid to act like my nieces, and the rogue Alpha. The rogue Alpha who terrifies us all. He is against the crown, and I can very well tell he is doing this to overthrow me! He is scheming; do not believe his lies, or you will all be doomed.” Isolde finally speaks, her voice calm and composed. “If we are lying. Why do you look so afraid? Why did you ask your men to take us down the moment we spoke the truth, instead of proving yourself?” “That is because Drogo is a monster!” Austin snaps. “Having him in my court is a threat. You spoke of the proving. What about

It was not about me being a fake heiress… It was about the imposter son! Casper was the imposter!

“Are you alone?” The imposter’s eyes flickered when he heard that. He tried to school his expression, but it was too late. His facade cracked at the edges like chipped ceramic. “I am not alone,” I answered. “Don't tell him,” the imposter mumbled. To Detroit, I answered calmly, “I'm with your duplicate. An imitation. A very good one… he hugged your woman, Detroit.” Detroit growled, one that made my heart skip over itself. A beastly growl. The kind that promised death.

"This guy wrecked wines and impersonated..." "Impersonated whom?" Pauline interjected sharply. "Enlighten me. What does my fiancé and Janet Lane's only son need to impersonate?" Her frosty gaze swept across Mark and his crew, settling on Jessica, who was stepping forward to explain the situation. Her timbre dropped to a menacing whisper. "How dare you treat him like this?"

“It is, my friend. We are moving to a bigger place.” “So, it isn't the case like with Tom's Bakery?” “No.” “What happened to Tom?” “After that flood, he's just waiting for an opportunity.” “He chose a bad lot for his bakery.” “If I remember, it is lot 21, after all?” “It's lot 23.” “It always was a swamp. How may I help you?” “I'm searching for a book.” “What kind of a book?” “A rare one, you have heard about Astilr's ring?”

Just as her colleagues were marveling at her capabilities, a news story erupted. Imogen suddenly became the center of attention in her department. The hashtag "#SentencedForImpersonatingAnother'sDegree" quickly gained traction. Upon reading the news, it was uncovered that a woman named Zoey Layton had fraudulently assumed the identity of Norvania Aerospace Academy's top graduate through her parents' connections. As a result, both Imogen's true identity and that of the impostor were brought to light. Fortunately, the impostor who had impersonated Imogen had her credentials revoked.

“If she wasn’t my destined mate, how the fuck did I feel a bond with her when we met? How come I felt it when it broke after she rejected me?” No one answered. I bet they were just as confused as I was. This whole thing was a damn mess, and it has just brought more confusion and a few answers. “I don’t know,” Micah answered after a while. “But the book did warn about impostors. It looks like Lola was an impostor, and you now need to find your true mate.” He was right, but I didn’t want to hear it. My heart was screaming against the idea. Sure, she wasn’t my mate, according to the text, but can I really trust a book that has been hidden for years?

The rooftop was quiet. The kind of quiet that didn’t last in New Yorkhigh above the noise, tucked between forgotten buildings and digital shadows. A place not even drones bothered to sweep anymore. Ava stood in the dark, her breath even, her hands at her sides. She didn’t move when the other her stepped into view. Same face. Same posture. Same voice. But not the same fire. “You’re smaller than I expected,” the imposter said. Her tone was calm, practiced. Every word rolled off her tongue like it had been rehearsed a hundred times. “In the files, you seemed louder.”

“You’re the last piece, Killian. Once you’re gone, the bloodline breaks.” Killian’s shadows lashed out, wrapping its arms and pulling — hard. Bone snapped in both elbows, but the thing only laughed, wrenching itself free with a spray of dark blood that steamed where it hit the stone. Then the floor shuddered. A deep, guttural roar rolled up from beneath the fortress. Dust poured from the ceiling as cracks spidered across the walls. The impostor grinned with blood running down its chin. “He’s awake.” Before Killian could ask who, the impostor threw itself backward into the brazier — and vanished into the black fire, leaving only the stink of scorched steel and the echo of its laugh.