The air between them was thick with unspoken words, a tension that neither of them could escape. Lyra's heart still raced, pounding in her chest from the chase, but now it wasn't just fear that made her pulse quicken. Kael stood before her, his gaze unwavering, a silent force that held her captive in ways she wasn't ready to admit.
"You're my mate."
Those words still echoed in her mind, even as she tried to push them away. How could he say that? How could he claim her like some prize to be won when all she wanted was freedom?
"I don't belong to you," Lyra finally said, her voice sharper than she intended. The adrenaline still surged through her veins, and with it came a rush of defiance. "I'm not some… some thing you can possess."
Kael's expression remained unreadable, though something flickered in his eyes—an emotion she couldn't quite place. "It's not about possession, Lyra. It's about fate. We were always meant to be bound."
