Nyx halts, turning toward us. “Palace?” he questions. His lack of knowledge about my time here with Colton is evident.
“Where Euric and Athalda were staying,” Colton explains. “With Euric gone and Lyra embracing her dark and scary side, it should be safe.”
I resist the urge to elbow him, instead retorting playfully, “Hey, I’m not scary.”
His laughter echoes through the tunnel, a sound that has been absent for far too long, warming my heart.
“Speak for yourself, my shadow,” he whispers, teasing, and I can’t help the smile that begins to curve my lips.
But then a sharp pain pierces my chest, as if I’ve been stabbed by an icicle. My smile falters, and an icy chill starts to spread throughout my body.
Chapter 2
Colton
She’s out of reach,our bond stretched thin. I don’t let on to Nyx, who’s got a flair for drama that I can do without. His constant presence is like a chokehold—unnecessary and grating.
I watch over Lyra in bed, the rise and fall of her chest under my palm the only thing steadying me.
Since she blacked out in the tunnels, dragging her back to this place felt like a march through purgatory. It’s too quiet, the kind of quiet that screams, and I’m close to regretting not listening to Nyx about using the bridge. Close.
“We should be tracking down Athalda, make her bow to Lyra or...end her,” Nyx says, looming over Lyra’s other side.
“As tempting as that is, Lyra’s got first dibs on the witch, and that’s non-negotiable,” I say, my hold on her unyielding. “I’m not going anywhere. She stays with me.”
“I’m here, aren’t I? She’ll have me until she wakes,” Nyx shoots back.
I can’t help but laugh. “That’s supposed to make me feel better?”
“Get over yourself, Colton. When are you going to come clean about your own tales? Can’t wait to see her face when she hears about our lineage,” Nyx says with a smirk that I want to wipe off his face.
“You’re afraid that I might be the light she needs,” I say, keeping my voice even. “But at least I’m not drowning in a sea of lies. I never once plotted against her, not like you.”
Nyx’s smirk doesn’t waver. “Afraid? Please. You’re the one playing the dutiful guard dog. But it suits you, brother. Keep barking at shadows while I deal with the real threats.”
I match his smirk with a cold one of my own. “Guard dog? That makes you the court jester, always dancing around the truth. We both know who Lyra can count on when danger comes knocking. Don’t forget I was there to help put back the pieces after you broke her.”
He leans back, his eyes hardening. “She’ll need more than muscle and pretty words, Colton. When the time comes, it’s my power that’ll save her. It’s a king she needs.”
“You think power is enough?” I retort, my grip on Lyra tightening, a silent promise to shield her with more than brute strength. “It’s not merely about power. It’s about trust, something you know nothing about.”
Nyx stands, a storm brewing in his gaze. “Trust is earned in blood and battle, not whispered sweet nothings. I’ve seen the way you look at her since her dark magic awakened, the hesitation in your eyes. Don’t think for a second she hasn’t noticed it too. When she wakes, we’ll see whose side she’s on.”
“She’s not a trophy to be won,” I snap, rising to meet him eye to eye. “She’s her own person. But when she wakes, she’ll see through your illusions. The only reason she’s been keeping you around is your father’s crazy prophecy about your light saving her. Soon she’ll know the truth.”
Our stares lock, two immovable forcesbound by blood but divided by our secrets. The tension could spark a war, yet we’re both unyielding, protectors and pursuers of the one we claim to love.
“Don’t you mean our father? May the best brother win,” Nyx says quietly, turning away with a shadow of a grin, leaving the words hanging like a guillotine’s blade between us.
And as the silence settles over us, I can’t shake the feeling that the real battle for Lyra’s heart is beginning.
My Lyra… I take a seat at the foot of the bed, paying no mind to Nyx as he ambles over to gaze out the window. She seems unchanged, yet there’s something distinctly different about her from the last time we found ourselves here. Those initial nights were fraught with her restlessness, her heart torn by the turmoil with Nyx, Aidan, and Samael. It’s undeniable—she’s endured far too much for her young age.
Her hair, a bit longer now, retains its vibrancy, the white-blonde waves spilling around her like a luminous frame. In sleep, she appears almost serene, a big contrast to the exhaustion I know has claimed her. Drained from funneling too much power into the heart, she might succumb to this deep sleep for days, a luxury we can ill afford.
The uncertainty outside these walls, including the unknown whereabouts of Athalda, weighs heavily on me. Lyra’s resolve to face Athalda herself is clear, but the security of our surroundings cannot wait.
I’m torn between the desire to remain by her side and the necessity of ensuring the palace’s safety. I thought maybe with her newfound strength she would have awakened by now, but the connection between us feels fragile, her vitality diminished.
