Lyra POV
The dream was a haven, a velvet embrace where Jaxon’s arms cradled me, his strength a fortress against the world. His heartbeat thrummed beneath my cheek, a steady rhythm that anchored me, his gentle smile—a beacon of warmth that always made me feel untouchable, cherished—lighting the shadows.
I leaned into him, my lips brushing his, a kiss woven with love, tenderness, and the quiet certainty of home. His scent—woodsmoke, cedar, the earth after rain—enveloped me, filling my lungs, grounding my soul, and I sighed, my heart swelling, whole in a way only he could make me. But as I drew back, his face shimmered, his gray eyes sharpening, growing colder, hungrier, a predatory edge that wasn’t his.
Jaxon’s warmth faded, replaced by Darius’s piercing gaze, his lips curling into a pos
