POV: Lyra
Sleep won't come tonight no matter how hard I try to force it.
I lie in my bedroll staring up at the stars through gaps in the tree canopy, listening to the sounds of camp settling around me. Cassian's steady breathing to my left. Bastien's occasional shift in position to my right. The quiet vigilance along the far side of camp, the unspoken assurance that someone is always watching even while the rest of us rest.
But my attention keeps drifting to the fire where Aphrodite sits with Draco.
I can't see them clearly from here, just their silhouettes against the flames. But I don't need to see details to understand what's happening between them. The way they sit close but not touching. The way the silence between them feels different than the tense quiet that usually surrounds the twins.
Something is shifting. Something fragile and new.
