Kaelen's POV
I carried Lyra upstairs personally, her weight settling against me with each step. The upper hallways held a different kind of silence—thick and pressing, making every heartbeat echo in my ears. She tried to mask her exhaustion, stubborn as always, but I felt every faltering step and the way her breath hitched.
"You don't need to carry me," she whispered against my shoulder.
"I know." My voice came out rougher than intended. "Doesn't mean I won't."
Her room waited exactly as she'd left it. Moonlight carved silver paths across the floor through half-drawn curtains. I guided her to the bed, watching as she sank into the mattress with visible relief. When I eased her back against the pillows, a sigh escaped her lips—the kind of sound that held hours of suppressed pain.
