LYRA’S POV
I woke to the low sound of voices. My head throbbed. My arms ached. Something cool and firm circled my wrists. Memory crashed back in a sickening wave. The run. The capture. The cuffs.
My eyes flew open.
I was in my bed, the blankets pulled up to my chest. And they were all there. All six of them. Sitting in chairs they’d dragged in from who-knows-where, forming a silent half-circle around my bed. The morning light cut through the gaps in the curtains, painting stripes across their serious faces.
Jeremy was closest, elbows on his knees, head bowed. Silas sat straight-backed, his expression unreadable. Raphael looked tired, his usual wild energy subdued. Orion watched me with quiet intensity. Rowan’s gaze was full of a pain I didn’t understand. Caspian just looked… resigned.
