Lyra shoved Casian away, her footsteps echoing sharply against the stone as she brushed past him without so much as a glance.
"If this is why you brought me here, then I suppose you have your answers," she said, her voice formal and cutting — a blade drawn to protect herself.
The smile that had danced on Casian's lips faltered.
He hated it — hated the way she shut him out, the way her words acted as a barrier between them.
He preferred the version of her that let her guard down, the one who laughed without thinking, who forgot to fear him.
But the moment she started building walls, something dark and possessive twisted within him.
"We're not done yet, Lyra," Casian said, his voice dropping into something cold and commanding.
She didn't turn, didn't slow, so he moved — fast, a predator cutting off her path. His hand braced against the wall beside her, his body a living, breathing cage.
