Lyra didn’t breathe.
Kade held her in his arms, her body limp, her skin flickering between human warmth and something colder spiritlight. Her heartbeat was erratic, pulsing in rhythms he didn’t recognize. The mark on her shoulder had split into two jagged sigils, one glowing silver, the other gold. Her eyes fluttered open, and for a moment, he saw nothing of the girl he loved.
Only the god.
Then she blinked, and Lyra returned barely.
“She’s not stable,” Jaren said, crouching beside them. His voice was tight, controlled, but Kade could see the panic in his eyes. “She’s shifting between forms. If she doesn’t anchor soon…”
“She’ll fracture,” Kade finished, his voice hoarse.
The spirits circled above, silent now. Watching.
Waiting.
The throne room was no longer a sanctuary. It was a ba
