The scene unfolded like a waking horror. Adrian lay sprawled on the ground, his chest heaving with labored breaths as blood pooled beneath him. Lyra’s screams echoed in the chaos, her silver eyes locked on his battered form. “Adrian!” she cried, desperation clawing at her throat.
Seraphine’s mocking laughter filled the air, her elegant figure looming over Adrian like a specter of death. “See how easily they fall for you, my love?” she cooed to someone unseen.
From the shadows, Eryon stepped forward, his amber eyes devoid of emotion. His wolf form shimmered beneath his skin, claws dripping with fresh blood. He cleaned his sword with methodical precision, his expression unreadable.
Lyra’s knees buckled as Seraphine turned to her, her voice dripping with false sweetness. “All of this could have been avoided if you’d simply joined us.”
“No,” Lyra whispered, her voice breaking. “This isn’t real.”
Eryon tilted his head, his gaze piercing. “It’s as real as you’ve made it.”
Adrian coughed, blood staining his lips as he reached a trembling hand toward her. Lyra tried to move, but her legs refused to obey. “Don’t leave me,” Adrian rasped, his voice fading.
Lyra screamed, the sound ripping through her chest as the world around her dissolved into darkness.
She jolted awake, her body drenched in sweat and her breathing ragged. The Mating Mark on her chest pulsed erratically, a searing ache that mirrored the turmoil in her heart. Lyra clutched the blanket, her mind racing with fragments of the dream.
The door creaked open, and Cassian stepped inside, his expression wary. “What happened?”
Lyra swallowed hard, her voice trembling. “Just... a bad dream.”
He moved closer, his amber eyes narrowing as he studied her. “This isn’t the first time, is it?”
She shook her head, unable to meet his gaze. “No.”
“Talk to me,” he said, his voice gruff but softer than usual.
“It was just a dream,” she managed to whisper, her voice trembling. “It doesn’t matter.”
“It clearly does,” Cassian replied, his amber eyes locking on hers. “Tell me.”
Lyra hesitated before finally speaking, her voice breaking. “It was Adrian… Seraphine… Eryon. They were—Adrian was dying, and I couldn’t save him. Eryon—he—” She choked on her words, the memory too raw.
Cassian’s jaw tightened, his hands clenching into fists. “They’re getting into your head,” he growled. “That’s what they want. To make you doubt yourself.”
Lyra looked away, her shoulders shaking. “What if it’s true? What if I can’t protect anyone? What if I’m not strong enough?”
Cassian reached out, his rough hand hesitating before it landed gently on her shoulder. “You’re stronger than you think,” he said firmly. “I’ve seen it. And I’ll make sure you see it too.”
She glanced up at him, surprised by the conviction in his voice. “Cassian…”
He shook his head. “You’re not alone in this, Lyra. Whatever’s coming, we’ll face it together. I’m not letting them take you—or anyone else—from me.”
For the first time in what felt like hours, Lyra felt a sliver of reassurance. Cassian’s presence was steady, unyielding. It didn’t erase the fear, but it dulled its sharp edges.
“Thank you,” she whispered, her voice small.
Cassian nodded, his hand lingering on her shoulder for a moment before he stood. “Get some rest,” he said. “You’ll need your strength.”