Lyra's POV
The ring was still on my finger. Heavy. Beautiful. Cursed.
I wore it like a brand now,not because I said yes to him, but because I’d said yes to something bigger. Something darker.
Control.
And control is a funny thing.
Because the second I felt like I had some?
I started noticing the ways I didn’t.
Leo was quieter now. Not calmer. Just coiled. Like a fuse, waiting. Every time I walked into the room, his eyes tracked me like I might vanish if he blinked too long.
He’d touch the small of my back at breakfast. Grip my hip just a little too tight before bed. Whisper things into my hair like, “No one else gets this version of me.”
And I’d smile. Let him think I was flattered. When in reality, I was cataloging every word like evidence.
Because obsession isn’t devotion.
It
