Lyra's POV
The violent hammering against my door yanked me from restless sleep. Each thunderous knock sent shockwaves through my skull, dragging me unwillingly back to consciousness.
Every muscle in my body screamed in protest as I forced myself upright. Something felt fundamentally wrong, as though I'd been poisoned or trampled by wild horses. The room spun dangerously when I swung my legs over the bed's edge, forcing me to grip the mattress until the world steadied.
The pounding resumed with renewed fury. Whoever stood outside my door wasn't taking silence for an answer.
"I'm coming," I croaked, my voice emerging like sandpaper against stone.
My legs wobbled as I approached the door. My fingers betrayed me, slipping uselessly against the handle before finally managing to turn it.
Celeste filled the doorway, her face a mask of barely contained rage. Her eyes burned with an intensity that made my blood turn to ice before she even opened her mouth.
