LYRA'S POV
Maya hit the ground.
Blood spread across the marble floor—too much blood, too fast.
Her eyes found mine. I tried to smile. Failed.
"Run..." she whispered.
Then she went still.
Everything stopped.
The battle. The noise. My heartbeat.
Time froze around Maya's broken body.
"No."
The word echoed in my head, my wolf's howl joining my human scream.
"No no no no NO—"
I'd promised to protect her. Promised she'd be safe. Promised being my friend wouldn't get her killed.
I'd lied.
And now Maya—my Maya, who threw books at assassins and wasn't afraid of me and taught me about healing herbs and made me feel less alone—
She was gone.
Because of me.
Because I'd been too merciful. Too soft. Too much of a child playing at being a warrior.
Something inside me shattered.
Not broke—shattered. Into pieces so small they could never be put back together.
The void runes on my skin blazed. Not silver. Not gold. Pure black, spreading like infection across my flesh.
