My chest tightens like it’s trying to crush itself from the inside, because even as I tell myself I can’t, even as I want to hold on, the decision’s already there, heavy and final.
Ashvale’s gone. And the girl who ran from Merrin’s offer, who thought she could escape like her mum did—she’s gone with it.
What’s left is choice. What’s left is war.
“I have to go back.” My eyes fix on the ground because I can’t bear to see his face when the words land.
Bren snaps toward me instantly. “No. I told you, we can’t go back down there.”
I shake my head. “Not Ashvale.” My voice cracks on the name.“The Citadel.”
For a second, he just stares, like he’s sure he misheard me. Then—startled, disbelieving: “What are you talking about? No. Of course you don’t. What the fuck are you even saying, Lyra?”
“It’s the only way I can help,” I say, voice raw. “It’s the only way I can help. I couldn’t stop Ashvale—I couldn’t save them. But I can get answers. My mum knew something, that the Citadel was hiding something. If I don’t go back now, it’ll happen again. Another town. More names. More fire. I have to figure out how to use this, my magic, or there’s no point to any of it.”
“No. There’s no way I’m letting you go. You just got back.I just got you back.”
I untangle myself from his arm and take his hands in mine, squeezing them tight. We’ve been at this too many times before—different fights, different stakes, but always the same truth. I know exactly how to press, exactly how to make him see I won’t move. And he knows it too.
His throat works, his eyes flick down to our joined hands, and then he exhales through his teeth, furious but accepting.
“Fuck. I hate that there’s no arguing with you. There never has been.” For a moment he just holds on, fumbling like he doesn’t know whether to grip tighter or let go, and then—slow, he looks up, fingers slipping free of mine. “Are you sure it’s just answers? Just training you’re going back for?”
“What else would it be?”
He exhales, rough, like the words scrape on the way out. “You can tell yourself it’s fake all you want, but the way he looks atyou? There’s nothing fake about that.” His voice falters, just for a second. “It’s the same wayIlook at you.”
My lungs stall, stomach twists so tight it aches. “You mean like a friend?” I ask, too fast, too certain. Like if I keep it simple, it won’t become something else.
“Come on, Lyra. Stop lying to yourself. You know how I feel. How I’ve always felt. I can’t hide it anymore. It’s too painful not to say it...”
“Don’t.” I cut him off before he can finish, before he can say the one thing that will make this unbearable. “Please. Don’t, it will just make this harder.”
I’d be a fool to pretend I didn’t know. I’ve been lying to myself, pretending I didn’t see it. And part of me, part of me thinks maybe I should want it. Want him.
“I saw you both talking outside before he left.” The words catch in his throat as his mouth pulls tight, eyes go glassy. “You’ve never looked atmelike that.”
“He’s a Veirmont. A Citadel officer. The enemy. I don’t?—”
“He’s also someone who's saved your life, what, three times now? Doesn’t sound like an enemy to me.”
My throat goes dry. No. No, he’s wrong. It’s not true. Sure—something about Talen kicks my pulse higher, but that doesn’t mean anything. It doesn’t.
Bren shakes his head, eyes shining, voice breaking. “If you go back…” He swallows hard. “I won’t be able to wait for you.”
The words gut me. Instinct pulls me toward him, desperate to close the space he’s just torn open, but when I try to move, nothing answers.
It’s not that I don’t want to.
It’s that I can’t.
My body doesn’t answer me. My legs sit heavy, dead weight beneath me.
What the hell is going on?
And the taste in my mouth, sour, not just smoke but something metallic, rancid—it coats everything now, clinging to my tongue, crawling down my throat until I can’t think around it.
Bren’s eyes lock on mine, focused, and I see his whole expression shift.
