Lyra's POV
The silence of the library was a living thing, thick and watchful, as Lyra followed Selene's familiar path through the stacks. A cold dread had settled in Lyra's bones the moment she saw Selene's terrified expression at the beach, and it had only intensified as she tailed her car back to this, their place. But Selene wasn't heading toward the main reading rooms or the fiction section. She was moving with a purpose toward the oldest, most secluded part of the library, a labyrinth of archives and restricted collections.
How does she know this area? Lyra's mind raced, her senses on high alert. This isn't on any public map. Someone is guiding her.
She hung back, concealing herself behind a towering shelf of historical periodicals, her breath held. Then she saw them. Selene, standing tense and pale, and a woman facing her. The woman's back was to Lyra, but her posture was unnaturally still, her presence seeming to drain the light from the space around her. A familiar sense of cold energy, ancient and hostile, radiated from the figure.
Recognition, cold and sharp, pierced through Lyra. She knew that aura. It was not from a member of her Creed. This was something else, something older and far more malicious. A member of a rival faction, one that believed their kind should remain hidden at any cost, even if it meant eliminating those who threatened their secrecy. Is she trying to sabotage me? To manipulate Selene? To scare her away? Or worse?
Lyra's every instinct screamed at her to intervene, to step between them and shield Selene from the poisonous words she knew were being spoken. But as she moved to step forward, she hit an invisible barrier. It wasn't a physical wall, but a wall of pure energy, a silencing field that vibrated with a low, malevolent hum. She could see their mouths moving, see the devastating impact of the woman's words on Selene's face, but she could hear nothing. She was forced to be a silent, helpless witness to the destruction.
She saw Selene's shoulders slump, saw the tears well in her eyes. She saw the woman lean in close, delivering a final, venomous whisper directly into Selene's ear. Lyra's hands clenched into fists at her sides, her own power simmering uselessly against the oppressive barrier.
When the woman finally turned to leave, she seemed to glance directly into the shadows where Lyra was hidden, a faint, cruel smirk touching her lips before she melted away into the darkness. The barrier dissolved as suddenly as it had appeared.
Lyra stood frozen, her heart pounding. Selene was alone now, looking shattered and small. Every fiber of Lyra's being urged her to go to her, to explain, to try and undo whatever lies had been told.
But she stopped herself. The look on Selene's face was one of pure, unadulterated horror. Horror directed at the ideas planted in her head, ideas about Lyra. What did that woman tell her? What does she think I am now? To approach her now, in this state, might only confirm every terrible thing she had just heard. She had pushed Selene away with her own secrets; now, an enemy had weaponized those secrets against them.
Hesitation, cruel and paralyzing, held her in place. Maybe she needs space. Maybe my presence will only make it worse. It was a thought born of fear, and she hated herself for it.
She could only watch, her own heart breaking, as Selene stumbled away from the table, her steps unsteady, and fled the archives without looking back.
Days passed. The library felt cavernous and empty without Selene's presence. Lyra watched the main doors, hoping to see her walk in, but she never did. The absence was a physical ache. Texts went unanswered. The distance between them was now a vast, silent chasm, and Lyra was terrified she had waited too long, that the manipulative words of her enemy had taken root too deeply.