Lyra's POV
I watched the blood drain from Kaelen's face like someone had opened a valve. His expression crumbled into something raw and desperate, like he'd been sucker-punched by a memory he thought he'd buried.
"What the hell is she doing here?" The words scraped out of his throat, jagged and broken.
I forced my gaze back to the blonde woman. This time, when our eyes met, those cornflower blue irises held mine for a moment that stretched too long. Then she turned away, her white dress flowing like liquid moonlight as she glided toward the hallway.
"Kaelen..." I started, but my voice caught.
"Lyra." He whipped around to face me. His eyes were wild, apologetic, completely shattered. "I can't... I mean..."
"Go." The word came out cleaner than I felt. Maybe because part of me recognized the truth written all over his face. Maybe because I could see the invisible chain pulling him toward that corridor like he had no choice in the matter.
