Lyra’s POV
I couldn’t sleep.
It was past midnight, and I’d been staring at the ceiling for over an hour, my mind spinning with thoughts of ceremonies and Moon Goddesses and green eyes that held secrets I couldn’t quite decipher.
Finally giving up on sleep, I slipped out of bed and padded barefoot to the kitchen, hoping some chamomile tea might quiet my restless thoughts.
I wasn’t surprised to find Marcus already there, leaning against the counter with a steaming mug in his hands.
“Couldn’t sleep either?” I asked softly.
He looked up, his eyes warming when they met mine. “Too much thinking.”
“About the ceremony?”
“About you,” he said simply, setting down his mug. “Always about you.”
Something in his voice made my breath catch. There was an intensity there I’d never heard before, ra
