Terrell's POV
I needed to find Angel.
The need was almost physical - a pull in my chest that wouldn't let me rest until I saw her, spoke to her, tried to fix the misunderstanding between us.
I found her standing in the clearing near where the tents were being erected, her posture stiff and uncomfortable as she watched Lyra work.
The girl was setting up Angel's tent with exaggerated care, clearly trying to prove her worth as a servant. Every time Angel moved to help - reaching for a stake or trying to hold a corner of fabric - Lyra practically swatted her hands away.
"No, no, Luna! I've got it! Please, you shouldn't have to do this!"
Even from a distance, I could see how much the attention made Angel squirm. She wasn't used to being served. Wasn't comfortable with someone fawning over her.
It was the perfect time to talk to her.
I approached slowly, giving her time to notice me coming. "Angel? Can we talk?"
She didn't look at me. "I'm not interested."
