Aira heard him, even as she continued to walk away, moving with the deliberate calm of someone trying to convince herself she hadn't.
Almost desperately, she wanted to turn around, to seek Zyren out and fix the tangled mess that had become her life—but deep down, she refused to. The thought of admitting weakness, of running to him like a child to a parent, filled her with a bitter, stubborn defiance.
If she couldn't face her own problems and ran to him—someone she had sworn to kill—what did that make her? A traitor to herself? A coward hiding behind a veneer of composure? The thought tightened around her chest like iron chains.
'I need to kill him myself… and make sure no one ever knows it was me,' she resolved silently, the edges of her mind sharp and cold. Yet, even as she marched back to her room, ready to collapse onto her bed and forget everything else for a few fleeting hours, an unease gnawed at her.
