Chapter 44: A Joke Between Fights
Lyra's point of view
The room where the council meets still smells like iron and burned sage.
It sticks to the stone walls, my hair, and the inside of my chest. The healers cleaned up the blood on the floor, and the guards took Marcus's wounded loyalists away. But the air still remembers what almost happened here. Even though the yelling stops, power doesn't go away. It waits. It hears.
I lean against one of the tall windows and watch the sun rise over the mountains. The sky is purple and gold, like the world barely made it through the night.
There are low, tense, careful voices behind me.
Even when Raine tries to make his voice sound softer, it still stands out. Alpha to the core, calm, and in control. He is giving orders again, planning defenses, a
