Fuck.
What the fuck was she even doing asking that?
The words were barely out of Alayah's mouth—You have a crush on a human? when her own brain slapped her.
It sounded wrong, sharp, too close to jealous. She wasn't supposed to sound like that. She was supposed to be cool, amused, untouchable. Not like some possessive idiot demanding explanations.
Lyra's eyes snapped up to hers, chin lifting just a fraction.
"Yes," Lyra said, voice clipped. "And what can you do about that?"
The answer hit harder than it should have. Direct. Unapologetic. No hesitation.
It stung.
Alayah's fingers tightened, just a little, where they still circled Lyra's wrist. She told herself it was because she wasn't expecting that level of bluntness—not because something in her chest twisted at the confirmation.
She has a crush. On a human. On that pretty-boy from earlier? The one with the smug face and decent jawline? Seriously?
She could see him again in her mind: the handsome guy from the lobby, leaning in as he talked to Lyra, smiling like she was sunlight and he was clever enough to notice.
The way Lyra had smiled back. The way that pink crystal had flared when he spoke.
Disgusting, Alayah thought, and hated herself a second later for how bitter it sounded in her own head.
Lyra had the right to like whoever she wanted. Celestian or demon or lowly human. That was the annoying part—logically, Alayah knew she had no claim. No right to question. No reason to feel anything about it.
But logic didn't stop the possessive growl curling low in her chest.
She leaned in closer, almost without meaning to, pinning Lyra more firmly to the wall. Lyra's breath hitched but her gaze didn't waver. That only made it worse.
"A human, hm?" Alayah said, keeping her tone lazy, like this was just another joke. "Didn't think you had such… low standards."
Lyra's eyes narrowed. "You don't get to talk about my standards. You were literally seducing someone in the hallway."
"Working," Alayah corrected with a shrug, though she didn't look away from Lyra. "I need crystals. You know that."
"So do I," Lyra shot back. "Maybe I collect mine differently."
Differently. With dumb pretty boys who didn't know what they were getting into, apparently.
Alayah's free hand lifted, almost of its own accord, fingers brushing a loose strand of silver hair back from Lyra's face. The move was gentle, almost intimate, and it pissed her off that it felt natural.
"Humans break easy," she murmured before she could stop herself, voice dropping. "He gets too close, you sneeze and he snaps in half. You sure you know what you're doing, princess?"
Lyra's jaw clenched. "He has a name. And I don't need your advice."
Oh, he has a name, Alayah thought sourly. Great. Fantastic. Even worse.
Her mind split into two tracks: the rational one and the one that wanted to grab that faceless pretty-boy and yeet him into the nearest river.
Rational brain: She's your rival, not your girlfriend. Let her flirt with whoever she wants. More emotional mess for her, less for you. Strategic advantage.
Dick-brain: I don't care about strategy, I just don't want her looking at him like that.
She was definitely thinking more with her head now than on Saturday. But her head and her dick clearly had different agendas, and neither of them liked the idea of Lyra blushing at some human instead of… anyone worth her time.
Like a demon.
Like her.
She shoved that thought into a dark corner before it could fully form.
"You're awfully defensive," Alayah said, letting the smirk curl back onto her lips as armor. "Did he win you over already? One smile and you're gone?"
Lyra scoffed, but there was color high in her cheeks. "You're imagining things. And again: what can you do about it?"
The question landed between them, heavy and sharp.
What could she do? Tell Lyra humans weren't worth it? That demon-fire and Celestian magic had no business getting tangled up with fragile mortal boys who thought buying iced coffee counted as romance?
That it made her want to break something to imagine Lyra's crush crystal glowing for him?
None of those were options that didn't make her sound insane.
So she fell back on what she knew: teasing, deflection, the weaponized smirk.
"Oh, I can do a lot of things," she said lightly, even as her mind hissed shut up, shut up. "But I'm trying this new thing where I don't scare away your toys. Sounds like you're doing a great job complicating your own life without my help."
Lyra bristled. Good. If she was angry, she wasn't soft. If she was fighting, she wasn't confessing.
"I don't have toys," Lyra said coldly. "And you're the last person who should talk about complicating lives."
The words hit closer to home than Lyra could have known. For a split second, Alayah's expression flickered. She tightened her grip on the wall rather than on Lyra.
Behind them, the girl Alayah had been charming earlier gave a small, awkward cough—the kind that said I'm still here and what the hell is happening in one breath.
Alayah didn't turn. She couldn't, not yet. She was too locked on the Celestian in front of her, on the glitter of that damned crush crystal that she was now sure was for the guy.
Anger wasn't quite the right word for what she felt. It was hotter than irritation, colder than pure rage. Jealousy sat bitter under her tongue, a taste she hadn't expected to ever associate with Lyra.
"You're really into this, huh," Alayah said softly, almost despite herself. "The human. You're serious."
She hadn't meant to sound… anything. But something slipped. The last word came out almost rough.
Lyra's throat bobbed. For a moment, her eyes flicked away, then back. "Why do you care?" she asked.
And there it was. A direct hit.
Why did she care?
Because it fucked with her competition? Because a distracted Lyra was easier to beat? Because humans were fragile and messy and brought complications that might spill into the contest, the councils, the terms of peace?
Or was it because she couldn't stand the idea of Lyra looking at some random guy the way Alayah wanted her to look at her?
She didn't have an answer she was willing to say out loud.
"I don't," she lied smoothly, finally easing her hand back from Lyra's wrist, pushing off the wall. The space between them widened by a fraction, but not much. "I just think you can do better than some low-level mortal with nice hair."
Lyra stared at her, searching her face for something—mockery, maybe, or sincerity, or weakness.
"Good thing it's not your decision, then," she said calmly.
That cut deeper than any blade.
Alayah forced herself to smirk again, stepping fully back now, putting on the mask that had never failed her before.
"Relax, princess. I'm not going to eat your little crush. I have enough on my plate." She jerked her chin toward the girl still watching them, confused and fascinated, a half-step away. "You should worry more about keeping up. Would be a shame if your… human distraction handed me the win."
Time to retreat. She could feel herself at the edge of saying something that would give too much away.
She turned slightly toward the other girl, tossing her a careless, charming smile to patch the scene. "Sorry about that." she said smoothly. "You were saying?"
The girl laughed awkwardly, still obviously thrown, but eager to slide back into the role of flirted-with mortal. "I was just asking if you were free Friday…"
"Maybe," Alayah said, eyes flicking back to Lyra one last time.
Lyra was already moving. Not running, not fleeing, just walking away with her shoulders stiff, spine straight, as if the conversation had bounced right off her.
But the faint pulse of that pink crystal was still there at her chest.
For the human, Alayah reminded herself. For the fucking handsome human boy.
She watched Lyra's retreating figure longer than she should, jaw tight, something ugly and yearning tangled in her chest.
She's allowed to like whoever she wants, she told herself. Even if that "whoever" is a guy who'd probably cry if he chipped a tooth.
Didn't mean Alayah had to like it.
Didn't mean she wouldn't keep an eye on him.
And it definitely didn't mean she would stop imagining how satisfying it would feel to outshine him so completely that Lyra's little crush crystal shattered and reformed into something else entirely.
Something with her name on it.