FIVE
1170 Words
By the following morning, Lyra had settled into the palace in the only way she knew how—quietly, cautiously, and without letting her guard down.
Her room was exactly as she’d requested. Close to Kael’s. Close enough that she could note the rhythm of movement outside his door, the change of guards, the hours he returned and left. Freya’s room was only a corridor away, farther—but still within reach. Lyra had insisted on that too.
The palace was huge and if her mission wasn’t to destroy it, she’d have been really impressed. Its corridors stretched wide and tall, carved from pale stone veined with silver that caught the light at odd angles. Every archway bore ancient markings- symbols of the Ashwyn Pack etched deep into the walls.
Servants bowed as she passed, whispers from them barely audible. Kael didn’t need to make any formal introductions to them- her arrival as his guest was more than enough reason to get them to immediately respect her.
For the first couple of hours at the palace, Lyra felt uncomfortable. She could feel eyes on her and everytime she met Kael’s gaze, he was smiling. A smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. A smile that made her wonder what exactly his mission was.
Was he really just as clueless as she believed? Had he really forgotten about the family he destroyed and now had dreams of living a normal life? Was he really going to make her revenge that easy?
“Lyra?”
Her thoughts in a similar pattern as the previous day’s were suddenly interrupted by a knock on the door. She shifted her gaze from the window to the door, watching it open without her permission.
Kael let out a cough and then walked in, their gazes meeting immediately.
He was dressed differently from the previous day, his clothes still in similar shades of black. His long hair was now styled differently, his green eyes glistening in a way she quickly categorized as evil.
“You didn’t come out for breakfast,” he spoke up, walking towards her. “I was hoping to see you at the table.”
“I wasn’t hungry,” she replied. “Packed some snacks with me so I ate that already.”
“Oh, okay,” he paused his steps. “In that case, do you have enough strength to talk?”
“Talk?”
“Everything happened so fast,” he resumed walking. “We need to get to know each other better.”
“Well, maybe.”
“Yeah,” he was getting closer, Lyra’s gaze rapidly moving around the room in search for ways to stop him. “How about we spend some time together today?”
“Doing what?”
He hesitated for a fraction of a second and finally paused his steps. “An activity,” he offered. “Something you enjoy.”
The corner of her mouth twitched—not amusement, but calculation.
“Sparring,” she eventually said.
Kael blinked. “Sparring?”
“Yes.”
“Oh,” he now looked amused. “You don’t strike me as someone who enjoys unnecessary violence.”
“I don’t enjoy it,” Lyra replied coolly. “I rely on it.”
A pause followed.
Then, surprisingly, Kael nodded. “Alright. Let’s go then.”
She heaved a light exhale as he finally turned away from her to led the way out of the room, Lyra controlling her breath until he was a reasonable distance away from her. Her fingers sneaked to the window pane and picked up her dagger, the metal carefully tucked by her thigh as she walked behind him all the way to the training grounds.
For the first time, she was impressed by a facility at the palace. The training grounds were open and quiet, the earth packed down by years of combat. It was so much better than the forest she always had to settle for, practing in hiding for years.
“Armor?”
“No, I’ll pass.”
Kael clicked his tongue then got into position, Lyra following him. They locked gazes and at the count of three, began.
They began slowly.
Too slowly.
Lyra tested his defenses, quick and precise, while Kael held back instinctively. Even restrained, his strength was undeniable. Each blocked strike reverberated through her arms. Each step he took was grounded, deliberate, controlled.
Strong, she noted grimly. Stronger than anticipated.
It only reinforced her resolve.
But eventually, Kael stepped back, lifting a hand. “Enough.”
Lyra frowned. “Why?”
“Because if I keep going,” he said evenly. “You’ll get hurt. And that’s not what I want to do to you.”
Her eyes flashed. Bulldshit. “I can handle myself.”
“I don’t doubt that,” he replied. “But I won’t be the one to test how far that goes.”
“I-“
“Don’t waste your breath, Lyra,” he interrupted her. “Sparring is out. Pick another activity.”
She let out a huff then folded her arms, anger making its way to her. “Fine. Let’s go hunting instead then.”
“Hunting?” Kael let out a scoff of disbelief. “When would you choose something like dancing? Or taking a walk together?”
“You can either take it or leave it,” she walked out of the sparring area. “I don’t mind spending the rest of my day alone if you aren’t down.”
“Fine, fine,” Kael exhaled slowly. “Fine, let’s go hunting then.”
Their next destination was beyond the palace walls, the forest stretching wide and familiar. Kael tried to fill the silence with a few questions, Lyra uttering no more than five words the entire time. Eventually, he gave up and just allowed the silence between them stretch for a while until it was interrupted by the scent of a deer.
“Ha! Finally!”
Excited at the sight of the dear, Kael shifted smoothly, moving ahead. He grabbed his arrow and aimed for the deer steadily, Lyra taking few steps backwards from him as she also pulled out her arrow.
To aim. Not at the deer. But directly at him.
She knew she was being impatient but she couldn’t help it. The mere sight of him irritated her, the mate pull she felt towards him irritating her even more. It was growing stronger with every second, forcing her to have to control herself everytime she was around her.
She aimed. And just as she was about to pull, she froze.
The angle. The posture. The memory.
An arrow piercing flesh. Her sister’s body collapsing. Blood blooming red against the earth.
Her chest tightened violently.
The world tilted.
Lyra’s fingers loosened, the bow slipping from her grasp as her knees buckled. Before she knew it, her legs failed her as she sank down hard, breath coming in short, shallow bursts, her vision blurring.
- Writer
