Lyra’s POV
The door to my room opened silently. A slice of light from the hall fell across the floor.
I froze, pulling the covers up to my chin, my heart hammering again.
It was Raphael. He stood in the doorway, silhouetted. He wasn’t in his professor clothes. He wore black sweatpants and nothing else. His chest was bare, the muscles defined in the low light. He looked like he’d just come from training. Or from somewhere else.
He didn’t come in. He just stood there, looking at me in the dim room. His expression was unreadable.
“I felt that,” he said, his voice a low, quiet rumble that vibrated in the space between us. “All the way across the house.”
The silence after Raphael’s words felt heavier than the dark. I clutched the sheet to my chest, my skin still humming, my breath stuck i
