They took the quartermaster at dusk.
No horns. No screams. No blood left for the yard to gather around.
Just a gap where a man had been standing a moment before.
Lyra watched from the upper walkway as two shadows peeled away from the tree line, moved with practiced calm, and returned the way they came. The guards on the wall saw them too late. Or pretended they did.
Ronan didn’t need to prove he could enter her world.
He only needed to prove he could touch it.
Tyler appeared beside her, breath steady, eyes hard. “They didn’t fight.”
“Because it wasn’t a raid,” Lyra said. Her voice remained calm, but her pulse had a thin, dangerous edge. “It was a correction.”
Tyler didn’t look away from the trees. “He’s answering you.”
Lyra nodded once. “He thinks he’s fixing me.”
That was the wh
