LYRA
The walls were too tight. The corridors too silent. Every step I took echoed like thunder in my mind, reminding me that I had gone too far, that I’d done something unforgivable, but it was too late to undo what I’d done. The fact that Darian's wolf rejected me was beginning to make me lose my mind.
I reached the Queen’s chambers with my heart pounding like war drums. The guards gave me a sideways glance, but nobody dared question me anymore —I was the soon to be Queen, their prince’s intended. And besides, I’d perfected that art of walking like I belonged.
But today, my steps faltered.
Inside, Queen Aanira lay propped against the mound of embroidered pillows, her face a pale version of the woman she once was. Regal still, but weak. Her hands trembled occasionally, and she no lon
