A long silence stretches between us.
Then Lyra nods once, slowly—understanding settles over her like a blade sliding into its sheath. Her gaze sharpens, a knowing glint in her green eyes.
“You’re scared of this . . . bond.”
The words land like a verdict. I tense, but don’t answer.
“Mara . . . ” Her voice is flat, the same tone that always precedes a hard truth, and my stomach twists.
She leans back on the bench, head tipped, eyes piercing right through me.
“Why are you running from this?”
Thane asked the same question. I exhale sharply, shaking my head. “Because I don’t understand it—and I don’t want to.”
“That’s not the real reason.”
My chest tightens. She gives me theLyra stare, the one I can never escape the weight of. The one that demands the truth.
I look into the fire in front of us, the flames licking at the wood, sending embers curling into the night.
Then—softly, barely more than a whisper: “Because if the bond is real, then I’m not just fighting for the realm anymore.”
Lyra doesn’t say anything. Just waits. So I keep going.
“If it’s real, then it means Thane isn’t just my commander.He’s not just someone I have to work with, someone I have to trust on the battlefield.” I swallow hard, my throat tight. “It means if I fall—if I fail—he feels it.” I exhale, running a hand through my hair. “And I don’t know if I can carry that. Not after . . . everything.”
Lyra nods slowly, her expression softer now, more thoughtful.
“So,” she says, tilting her head, “you’re scared because if something happens to you, it’ll hurt him?”
A heavy sigh leaves my lips. “Yes.”
She stares at me for a long moment, then laughs. Not a quiet chuckle. A full, head-thrown-back,what-the-fuck-is-wrong-with-youlaugh.
I blink, scowling. “What the hell is so funny?”
“Gods, Mara.” She grins, shaking her head. “You are so fucking dense sometimes.”
“Excuse me?”
She leans forward, elbowing me lightly. “You’re sitting here terrified of how much it’ll hurt him if you die—like he hasn’t been carrying that fear about you this entire time.”
I freeze. Because I hadn’t thought of that. Or maybe—maybe I had, and I just didn’t want to admit it.
“Mara,” Lyra says, softer now, “he already feels that way. He already worries. He already moves to protect you before you even need it. That’s not new.” She tilts her head, watching me carefully. “The only difference is that now you’re finally realizing it.”
I exhale sharply, gripping the bench beneath me.
“That’s not all of it,” I mutter.
Lyra waits, her silence expectant.
I swallow hard. “What if this bond is the real reason he’s with me at all?”
Her brows lift slightly, but she doesn’t interrupt.
“What if the only reason he feels this way about me is because magics has tied him to me? What if, without it, he wouldn’t have looked at me twice?”
