Lyra's POV
The metallic taste of blood coated my mouth as I whispered through cracked lips, "Wolfsbane." A bitter laugh escaped me despite the agony coursing through every nerve. "Bane of my existence."
Behind Alaric's broad shoulders, Xander released a sharp intake of breath that sounded more like a curse than surprise.
Alaric remained silent, his jaw clenched tight as he pressed his palms against the chains binding me. The metal groaned under the pressure, denting slightly, but held firm. When he pulled his hands away, angry red welts had already begun forming across his skin. Frustration rolled off him in waves as he dragged his fingers through his dark hair, wincing when the movement aggravated his fresh burns.
"Step aside," Xander commanded, his voice cutting through the tension like a blade.
