Lyra POV
The morning light filtered through the guest room curtains, casting a soft glow over the linen quilt where I sat, still clutching the teacup Clara had brought the night before. My heart felt lighter after her kindness, but Fiona’s words lingered like a shadow, leaving an emptiness I couldn’t shake.
Sleep had been restless, filled with fragmented dreams of Jaxon—his gray eyes brimming with promises, his hesitation cutting like a knife. I wanted to believe Clara, to trust my heart, but doubt was a chain, pulling me down.
A firm knock at the door snapped me out of my thoughts, and before I could respond, Jaxon’s voice, deep and warm, came through the wood. “Lyra? You up? I want to show you something.”
My pulse quickened, a mix of nerves and anticipation. I stood, smoothing my ru
