"Don't you dare walk away from me, Lyra," I screamed, my voice shrill and quivering with a mix of rage and despair. "We cannot keep escaping this."
She stopped precisely and turned slowly to face me. Her eyes reflected the same doubt, anxiety, and something else—something that matched my own emotions—that I had seen in the shadowy corners of my mind over the last several days.
Her voice almost above a whisper, "You think I want this?" she said. You consider me to be running? I'm not. I simply am trying to survive.
I advanced to close the distance between us. Though her comments really impacted me, her vulnerability and worry cut through me the most.
"You believe you are the only one afraid?" I murmured, a quiet, almost begging voice. Lyra, we are navigating this together. We have always been like this.
Her gaze softened momentarily, then the barriers went up once more—harder than before. She turned away, pulling herself out of my reach.
"You don't understand, Thorne," she remarked, her tone full of exasperation. "You don't know what they want from me. What will they do to acquire it."
I was just about losing control. Lyra, tell me. Tell me what's happening; otherwise, we won't make it over."
Her expression contorted in struggle, as though she was choosing whether to believe me. Her hands were fidgety and her lips opened as though she were going to say but I could not locate the words.
"Why will you not trust me?" I asked, a tiny bit of voice cracking here. "We have gone through worse still. We have always surmounted it together. I am not bidding you farewell. Neither now nor ever.
She closed her eyes, but when she opened them again, there was something unusual in them. It transcended mere fear now. Something darker, a shadow rising in the still areas of her heart.
"Do you really not understand?" Her voice broke when she said. "I cannot... I cannot allow you to get pulled into this. Your battle is not this one.
My annoyance bubbled over. Lyra, this is my battle right now. It's always been.
There was then a protracted silence. Neither of us could move first; we stood there staring at one another. Every word that hung between us was like a thousand knives cutting farther than the last.
My voice hardened, I said softly, "I'm not asking for your permission." "I am informing you here." You're not doing this alone anymore."
Her eyes shot up to meet mine, and for a brief second, I thought she might say something. She turned away, shaking her head, though.
Thorne, you do not get it. You would not understand the depth of this. She let out a sharp breath, hands clutching the fringes of her shirt as if she were holding herself together. "If I tell you, I'm not sure whether I could live with what happens next."
In my chest my heart thumped agonizingly. Miles wide separated us in space. "I'd rather know than keep stumbling around in the dark."
She stepped back, her hands trembling. "I… I can't do this anymore. I can't keep pretending like I have control over any of this."
My stomach twisted as I reached out to her. "You're not alone, Lyra. You never have been."
For a split second, I thought she might fall into my arms, that she might finally let go of the weight she'd been carrying for so long. But instead, she stepped back, her eyes filled with pain.
"I have to do this my way," she whispered, looking away from me. "You can't save me, Thorne. You never could."
Her words hit me like a punch to the gut. It was like everything I'd hoped for—everything we had—was slipping away, out of reach.
"Why can't you see that we're stronger together?" I said, trying to close the distance again.
She shook her head, tears welling in her eyes, but she didn't let them fall. "Because I don't want to drag you down with me. This isn't just about us anymore. It's bigger than that. I don't know if I can even save myself."
I was done waiting. The words escaped before I could stop them. "You don't have to save yourself. Let me help. Let me—"
But before I could finish, a loud bang sounded from the distance, followed by a screeching noise that made my skin crawl.
I spun around, my hand instinctively going to the gun at my side. "What the hell was that?" I muttered.
The sound came again, this time closer. The thrum of an engine, faint but unmistakable. Someone was coming.
"Thorne," Lyra said, her voice shaking. "We need to move. Now."
I didn't hesitate. I grabbed her arm, pulling her toward the nearest exit, my eyes scanning the shadows around us.
But then, a shadow darted out from the alley ahead, a figure cloaked in black. It was too fast, too quiet.
I barely had time to react before the figure lunged at us, a blade flashing in the streetlight.
I shoved Lyra behind me, my body instinctively bracing for the attack. But before the blade could reach me, a roar split the night, loud and savage.
The man—if that's even what he was—stumbled back, eyes wide in terror. He didn't even have time to scream before something else grabbed him.
I spun around to see a massive, shadowy form charging out of the darkness. It wasn't human—too large, too fast. The beast crashed into the figure, knocking him to the ground with terrifying force.
And then, just as suddenly, it stopped. The creature paused, its glowing eyes locking onto me.
Lyra gasped behind me. "What… what is that?"
I didn't have time to answer. I was already running toward the exit, dragging her along with me, but the creature's gaze didn't leave us. It was as if it knew us, and worse, as if it were waiting for something.
I could feel my heart pounding in my chest, my pulse racing. The threat wasn't just external anymore. It was bigger, darker. And it was following us.
I glanced at Lyra, and in that moment, I saw the truth in her eyes. She knew something I didn't. And whatever it was, I was going to find out… the hard way.
"Lyra, don't you dare walk away from me? My voice was shrill, shaking with a mixture of wrath and despair. "We cannot keep fleeing this."
She stopped precisely and turned slowly to face me. Her eyes reflected the same doubt, anxiety, and something else—something that matched my own emotions—that I had seen in the shadowy corners of my mind over the last several days.
Her voice almost above a whisper, "You think I want this?" she said. You consider me to be running? I'm not. I simply am trying to survive.
I advanced to close the distance between us. Though her comments really impacted me, her vulnerability and worry cut through me the most.