Her eyes fluttered open, hazy with sleep but filled with an urgency that stopped him in his tracks.
"Don't go," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. "Please."
Lyle's heart twisted at the vulnerability in her tone. She was always so composed, so unyielding. To see her like this, asking for him to stay—it made his resolve to protect her even stronger.
"I'm not going anywhere," he reassured her, his voice firm but gentle. "I'll be right here."
He eased onto the edge of the bed, her hand still clutching his wrist as if letting go would somehow shatter the fragile sense of safety she had found in his presence. He reached out, his fingers lightly brushing over hers in a silent promise.
Ephyra's eyelids grew heavier, her breathing evening out as sleep began to claim her once more. Before she fully succumbed to unconsciousness, she whispered one last thing, so faint he almost missed it:
"Don't leave me alone, Lyle."
