Lyra POV
The room felt too quiet.
Too still.
Too empty.
Lyra sat by the window, her dinner tray untouched for several minutes before she forced herself to pick at it.
Not because she was hungry.
But because she refused to appear weak—even to herself.
Nyx was restless.
You should be down there. You are not the one who did wrong.
Lyra let out a slow breath.
“I know.”
But her voice lacked conviction.
Because something inside her had shifted.
Not broken.
But… withdrawn.
⸻
Her fingers brushed lightly against her cheek.
The faint sting was still there.
The memory sharper than the pain.
Kael’s hand.
The force.
The moment his eyes had burned with anger—not at the truth, but at her.
Nyx growled low.
He chose her.
Lyra closed her eyes briefly.
“Stop.”
But Nyx didn’t.
He al
