Lyra's POV
"It doesn't matter," I heard myself say, startled by how steady my voice sounded. The words came out calm, almost detached, though my heart hammered against my ribs. "I don't mind spending the night in your quarters if it helps your mother feel better."
His eyebrows rose slightly, the only crack in his otherwise unreadable expression.
"But I need to go to my room first," I continued. "I want to shower and change."
"You can do that in my chambers," he replied without hesitation. "I'll have your Omega bring whatever you need."
I studied his face, noting the way his jaw set with quiet determination. There it was again, that effortless authority that turned suggestions into commands. Everything had to be his way, on his terms. Some things about him would never change, and this need to control every detail was something I'd never learned to accept.
"What if I say no?" I asked, watching his expression tighten.
