The absence hurt more than the threat.
Lyra learned that before midnight.
Ronan didn’t send word. He didn’t gloat. He didn’t parade Mara’s relocation as a warning. He removed her from the board and let the space do the work.
That was new.
And dangerous.
Lyra stood alone in the records room, staring at the map until the ink blurred. Mara’s last known location was marked with a small, neat symbol. It meant nothing now. Ronan had erased it the way you erase a name from a ledger when you want it forgotten.
Tyler leaned against the far wall, arms crossed, watching her not look at him.
“You’re circling the same route,” he said quietly.
Lyra didn’t answer.
“You’ve done it three times.”
She stopped, fingers tightening around the charcoal. “He wants me searching blind.”
“Yes.”
“He wants
