LYRA'S POV
I ran. I didn’t even know where I was running to, I just needed to get out of sight. Out of their eyes. Out of that damn training yard where every breath felt like punishment and every stare dug into my skin like claws.
My ribs ached. My palms were scraped raw from hitting the dirt so many times, and my thighs were burning from running and pushing and crawling through Killian’s brutal routine. But none of that hurt like my chest.
I turned the corner of the storage shed, shoved past a half-open door, and collapsed to the floor.
It was dark and dusty. Old weapons, boxes, spare training mats...I didn’t care. I curled up in the corner, behind the stacked crates, hugged my knees tight to my chest, and I let go.
Hot tears slipped out before I could stop them.
I buried my face in
