Killian
The night that had begun with light ended in fire.
I still remember how her hand had felt in mine only hours ago; warm, certain, pulsing with the rhythm of our bond beneath our skin. But now that same hand was clenched into a fist, trembling not from fear, but from restraint.
“Lyra?” My voice cracked as her name left me. “What are you doing?”
We stood in the clearing where the coming of age ceremony had been held. The moon that had witnessed our union now hung cold and distant above us. The crowd had gone. The laughter and blessings had vanished, swallowed by silence. Only we remained, Lyra, me, and the shadows that whispered behind her.
Damon.
He stood just beyond her shoulder, half in light, half in darkness. There was something smug about the way his lips curved, as though
