LYRA
They say truth reveals itself in moments of wrath, and tonight, fury had chosen its vessel.
The halls of the Night-glass fortress echoed with the panicked shouts of the injured. My assassins, my handpicked, battle hardened elites, groaned on the bloodstained floors. Their moans of failure, scraped against my nerves like broken glass on skin.
The taste of rage was sharp and metallic on my tongue as I stood over the useless heap of bloodied assassins. My cloak fluttered behind me in the cold wind that seeped through the Night-glass fortress, but I didn’t feel it. My rage was hotter than fire.
“Useless!” I screamed, kicking over one of the assassins in fury. The noise ricocheted off the stone walls like a death bell. “I gave you one job,” I spat, my voice rising with every word. “Jus
