His gaze flicks towards the sparring rings beyond ours, then back to me. “How did you two meet?”
I shake my head, a smile tugging at my lips. “We didn’t meet—we’ve always known each other. We grew up together, same village, same fields, same endless days of finding trouble and pretending we weren’t going to get caught.”
His brow lifts slightly. “Not hard to imagine for you two.”
I snort. “I was the reckless one back then. She was always the one dragging me out of whatever mess I got us into. I’d convince her to do something stupid, she’d roll her eyes and go along with it—and then when it all fell apart,she’dbe the one to talk us out of trouble.”
Thane chuckles softly.
“She’s always been this way,” I murmur. “Loud. Quick. Impossible to intimidate.” I take a breath. Then quieter—“I used to think she was fearless. But I know better now. She’s just afraid of losing the people she loves.”
Thane’s silence stretches, long and thoughtful. Then he says, “I see why she stayed.”
I glance at him, brow raised. “Oh? And why’s that?”
His eyes flick to mine. “Because you would have done the same.”
And something about the way he says it—so sure and certain—makes my chest tighten.
We sit in silence for a while, the kind that doesn’t need filling. But then, a particular memory comes to mind.
“There was this boy in our village.”
Thane eyes slide to me, waiting.
“We were kids—seven, maybe eight. He was older, bigger. Thought it was funny to pick on the younger kids, and for some reason, he had it out for me.” I shake my head. The memory blooms sharper than I expect. “One day, he took one of my mother’s bracelets. A simple thing, nothing expensive—but it was hers. He dangled it in front of me, laughing, daring me to take it back.” I remember the way my tiny fists clenched, the way my face burned with humiliation, anger, helplessness. “And just as I was about to do something stupid, Lyra showed up.”
Thane raises a brow. “What did she do?”
I grin. “She beat the shit out of him.”
That gets a reaction. His lips part slightly, like he’s holding back a laugh, only the corners of his mouth twitch.
He’s losing the battle.
“She was smaller than him. Smaller thanme,even. But she didn’t care. Tackled him to the ground. Punched him in the face until he cried.”
Thane blinks, then smiles. “Remind me not to get on her bad side.”
“Oh, you’re already on it,” I say, grinning. “She’s just being polite.”
That earns a real laugh—quiet, low, butreal.And gods, it does something to me.
Something warm. Something dangerous.
I try to rein in that feeling, shaking my head.
“She made him apologize and give the bracelet back. Then, just to make sure he learned his lesson, she kicked him in the shin and told him if he ever looked at me wrong again, she’d bury him in the wheat fields.”
Thane hums, his gaze drifting toward the sparring yard where Lyra is training with the newer recruits. “I believe that.”
I exhale, letting the old warmth of the memory settle in my chest. “She’s been like that ever since. If someone crosses me, they cross her. And if I needed her . . . ” I pause. “She was there.”
I tilt my head slightly, considering him. “Not so different from you, actually.”
Thane’s jaw tenses, almost imperceptibly, but he doesn’t look at me.
The silence hangs—taut—and I let it breathe. Then nudge it gently back toward him.
