Lyra’s POV
I watched from the shadow of the hallway, and I felt sick.
Not sick-sick. Angry sick. A hot, tight feeling in my stomach that made my hands curl into fists.
They were in the kitchen. Her kitchen. Nyx was leaning against the counter, her hair still damp from a shower. She was wearing soft clothes, not her armor. And she was… smiling. A real one. Not the cold smirk she gave to people before she killed them. A real, quiet smile as she watched him.
Kayden was at the stove. He was cooking. Sizzling sounds, the smell of garlic and herbs—real food, not the bloody meat she usually picked at. He said something, and she laughed. A soft sound I hadn’t heard in years.
My chest hurt. This was my place. I was the one who made her forget, even for a minute. I was the one who brought her j
