Seraphine’s POV
Lyra’s lips trembled, and her brow furrowed as the realization washed over her—she hadn’t torn my heart out, but rather Mr. Cyril’s heart, the Council’s watchful eye on the unfolding situation. A heavy sigh escaped her as she gazed at the bloody organ in her hand before nonchalantly discarding it. “Wrong heart,” she muttered, fixing her intense gaze on me, just as Mr. Cyril’s lifeless body collapsed onto me.
With a decisive shove, Lyra pushed the corpse aside and reached for me again, but her strength waned, and she suddenly crumpled to the ground. Lucian, now back on his feet, rushed to Angela’s unconscious form, checking her with concern. “She’s unconscious; it seems Lyra is no longer in control,” Lucian sighed.
I quickly regained my footing, and Storm approached Angel
