The fire crackled softly in the hearth, its warmth a stark contrast to the cool night air that hung around them. Lyra sat on the edge of the bed, her eyes heavy with exhaustion, but her mind was far too restless for sleep. The events of the battle, Marcus's looming threat, and the strange surge of power that had coursed through her body lingered in her thoughts, refusing to let her rest.
Kael stood by the window, his back to her as he stared out into the dark forest. His broad shoulders were tense, and Lyra could see the faint bruises and cuts that marred his skin—evidence of the fight he had barely survived. She knew he was hurting, both physically and emotionally, but he hid it well, as he always did.
But tonight, there was a different tension in the air—something unspoken, something heavy that neither of them had dared to address. The memory of Kael's words from earlier still echoed in her mind.
"Because you matter to me, Lyra. More than you know."
