Did they really have to tie them this fucking tight?
“It's getting harder, you know...” Luc warns. “Bringing you back.”
I don’t look at him. I just drag the last blood-stained knot free from her wrists and stand. “It’s fine. I’m fine. I’m just stressed.”
I wave him off like it’s nothing, but the lie settles like gravel in my gut, and my fingers twitch. Flexing them once, I shove both hands into my pockets, gripping the talisman before they start again.
Because I used to be able to control it, deciding when Cal came through, and when to pull him back. Simple line. My line. Now? Now, he’s staying longer, harder to shake, like he’s testing how far he can push before I notice.
I mean, I can’t really blame him. Nine years merged with a human body? Hell, I’d be clawing for the surface too?—
A deep rumble rolls through the valley, reverberating through the dry earth beneath me. Thunder, distant but closing in fast.
“Merrin is right about her, isn’t he?” Luc asks, turning his head south, toward the peaks where the sky’s already bruising with storm. “She can do this… right?”
“God, I hope so.” I scrub a hand down my face. “She’ll need at least a few weeks rest just to walk straight again. Then training needs to start. The Blood Moon’s in less than ten weeks.” My attention stays locked on the dark cloud swelling on the horizon. “You take her. I’ll meet you back at the camp. Strannt’s mine, he won’t have gotten far.”
Luc nods, and I take one last glance at Lyra. She’ll wake up hating me. Good. Better that than dead. Then I press the talisman back into Luc’s hand and don’t wait for a reply. Dropping my guard and relaxing my mind—power tears up my spine like a lightning strike as Cal instantly surges through me.My vision blurs, heat flooding every nerve as my body unravels and reshapes. The world tilts as I stumble forward?—
—and then I’m gone.
CHAPTER TWO
LYRA’S POV
Air won't come.
Gasping, my eyes snap open. Damp canvas, candle smoke and something bittersweet.
The smells hit all at once, locking my chest before I can even place them and I jerk upright. Silk sheets tangle around my legs, trapping me, and panic tears through me harder. Clawing at them, desperate and frantic, I fight to get free, as if that alone might make my lungs work again.
Where am I?
Kicking clear of the sheets, I twist toward the dim room, but the movement sends everything tilting. Blackness creeps in at the edges of my vision, and the harder I fight for air, the more the room breaks apart around me. My pulse hammers too fast, too loud, dragging me back to the last thing I remember?—
Finn leaving. Ezzy hitting the floor. Rowan’s blood.
They’re gone. They’re all gone.
Bile floods my mouth as my stomach churns. God, I'm going to throw up.
Folding forward, I wrap my arms around my knees and try to drag in a breath, it catches halfway as a tremor tears throughme—followed by another, then another. My muscles contract around me, and I try to brace, still the shaking keeps coming anyway, rattling through my ribs as my lungs fight for air.
Breathe. Just breathe.But I can’t. My body won't listen.
Then, movement to my right.
“Lyra.” A familiar voice cuts through my rising panic. “Lyra, it’s okay. You’re okay. You’re safe.”
The tone lands and suddenly the tension inside me loosens, enough for air to slip past my throat. It scrapes down raw, yet this time it doesn’t catch. The next inhale sinks deeper, fuller, flooding my lungs, sending a warm rush up my spine and taking the edge off the pounding behind my ribs.
For another few inhales, I stay folded forward, head in my hands, letting my chest rise and fall. Then, little by little, the rest of the world starts to creep back in—the soft, cool silk sheets against my feet, the warm summer breeze brushing the back of my neck.
Finally, once I'm confident I won't pass out, I carefully lift my head and turn.
He’s there.
Seated in a chair beside the bed, his hair is messier than normal and dark stubble shadows his jawline. He looks tired, but the gold in his eyes is bright, catching the candlelight as his gaze finds mine.
