Killian
I left her in the guest wing yesterday, a decision that had felt necessary at the time, though it cut deeper than I cared to admit. Lyra wasn’t ready. She had to understand that trust was not something I could hand back to her so easily, not after all the betrayal, the chaos, the lies. Yet, as I walked away from her, there was a small, selfish hope burning in my chest, that she would come looking for me.
I waited.
Every creak of the floorboards in the night made me glance toward the door, expecting to see her silver hair, or what used to be silver, slipping through the c***k, her hesitant voice calling my name. Every gust of wind outside made me imagine she had gathered enough courage to stand before me, ready to ask for forgiveness. But the night passed in silence.
My wolf pa
