MasukIt’s been a week of this—days of trying, failing, trying again. And yet, here we are, in Connor’s room, sitting on the floor with blankets tossed around us, notebooks full of scribbles and drawings that might as well be chicken scratch. “I don’t get it,” I mutter, staring at my hands. “It’s like… it’s there, but it just… won’t come.” Connor leans back against the wall, arms crossed. His dark hair falls into his eyes. “We’ve been trying for a week, Lyra. Maybe… maybe it was just a one-time thing. You know? An accident.” “No,” I say immediately, my voice sharp. “It’s not a one-time thing. It came out when I was scared. Fear triggered it last time.” He studies me, then slowly nods. “Okay… then let’s try that. Think of something that makes you really… scared. Something you can’t ignore.” I close my eyes, forcing the image into my mind. My dad’s face, scared and pale. Jason’s arms trembling. And him—Connor. The thought of losing him, of never seeing him again, hits like a punch t
It had been a couple days since Mara’s death, and the weight of it still pressed on me. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw her face, the life drained from her, and I couldn’t help but blame myself. If I hadn’t sided with Damien, maybe… “Lyra.” I looked up to see Connor standing in the doorway. He walked over and sat on the edge of the bed. “I… I keep thinking it’s my fault,” I admitted, my voice tight, choking on the words. “If I hadn’t helped him, she would still be alive.” Connor shook his head, his hand brushing against mine. “No. It’s not your fault.” I looked at him, confused. “How isn’t it my fault? I did exactly what Damien asked. I—” Connor squeezed my hand. “Lyra, listen. That’s just the kind of guy Damien is. He doesn’t care who he hurts, who dies. And he’ll keep doing it. Mara didn’t die because of you. She died because he’s ruthless, because that’s how he controls people.” I swallowed hard, the lump in my throat growing. “Then why can’t we escape?” Connor’s gaze da
It was afternoon time, Damien and his followers still haven’t returned from yesterday. I was just glad Damien didn’t have me doing anymore dirty work for him. I found Connor leaning against a pillar in one of the empty halls, arms crossed, staring out at the courtyard. When he saw me, a small, easy smile flickered across his face. “Hey,” I said softly, approaching. “Hey,” he replied, stepping aside so I could sit on the stone ledge near him. “You look… better today.” I shrugged, a little embarrassed. “Better than yesterday, maybe. Not sure I feel better inside, though.” Connor chuckled lightly. “Yeah, I get that. I’ve had a few days like that myself.” We fell into an easy silence, watching the sunlight stretch across the courtyard. After a moment, I asked, “Do you ever… think about life before all this? Before Damien?” Connor let out a soft laugh, almost wistful. “All the time. It feels like a lifetime ago. Before this, I was just… normal, I guess. Work, friends, stupid little
The food’s gone cold by the time I realize I’ve been staring at it. Bread. Eggs. Something that smells like meat. I poke at it once with my fork, then let my hand drop back to the table. My stomach twists, not from hunger, but from the memory of silver light crawling under my skin. “Lyra.” I blink. Connor’s standing in front of me, arms crossed, looking annoyed in that quiet way of his. “You’ve eaten, like, three bites.” “I’m not hungry,” I say, pushing the plate away. “That’s what you said yesterday. And the day before.” I shrug. “Guess I’m consistent.” He doesn’t smile. He pulls out the chair across from me and sits, leaning forward. “Okay. What’s going on?” I hesitate, then exhale slowly. There’s no point pretending with him. “Something happened last night,” I say. “With Damien.” Connor’s posture stiffens. “Did he hurt you?” “No,” I say quickly. “I— I hurt him. I think.” His eyes narrow. “Explain.” “I lost control,” I say quietly. Connor leans forward. “What do you m
I’m awake.Not tossing, not pacing—just staring at the ceiling, counting the cracks in the stone like that’ll keep my mind busy. It doesn’t. My hands still feel wrong. Heavy. My body won’t settle, like it’s waiting for something I can’t see.There’s a dull pressure under my skin. Not pain. Not yet.I sit up, rubbing my palms together. The room is quiet, but the air feels thick. When I swing my legs over the bed, the floor vibrates slightly. I freeze.“What the hell…”The pressure spikes without warning. Heat rushes up my arms, sharp and sudden, and I gasp, grabbing the edge of the bed. Silver light flashes beneath my skin—gone almost as fast as it appears.“No,” I mutter. “Not now.”The door rattles.I don’t touch it. I don’t even look at it. It slams open anyway, cracking against the wall hard enough to splinter the frame. I flinch back, heart racing.Damien steps inside.His eyes lock on me instantly. “Lyra.”“I didn’t do that,” I say quickly, even though we both know I did.He take
We were barely back inside the base when Connor found me. He moved fast—too fast for someone who’d supposedly been “recovering.” His eyes scanned me head to toe, sharp with concern, like he was expecting to find me bleeding out on the stone floor. “Lyra,” he said, gripping my arm gently. “I heard what happened. Are you okay?” I nodded. “I’m fine.” He didn’t look convinced. “They said it got bad out there.” “It did,” I admitted, then forced a weak smirk. “But don’t worry. I’m not dying anytime soon.” That earned a small breath of relief from him. “Good. I—” He stopped himself, glancing around. “I was worried.” Before I could respond, the air shifted. That cold, unmistakable pressure rolled through the hall like a warning. Damien. “That’s enough,” he said smoothly, appearing beside us. His crimson eyes flicked to Connor’s hand still hovering near my arm. “I need her.” Connor stiffened but stepped back immediately, lowering his gaze. Damien turned to me. “Come.”
“Oh really?” Mara moved closer “And how do you think that’s gonna go?” I tried to speak first. “Mara—wait,” I said, stepping forward, palms open. “We don’t have to—” She moved. Fast. Her fist caught me across the jaw, snapping my head to the side before I could finish the sentence. The ta
A few days passed without incident. I learned the rhythm of the place—when the halls were busiest, which corridors stayed quiet, how to move without drawing too much attention. The looks never stopped. Curled lips. Cold stares. Open disgust. I ignored all of it. Staring back wouldn’t change a thin
A few days pass before I stop by Connor’s room again. I don’t knock this time. I slip inside quickly, shutting the door behind me like I’ve done it a hundred times already. Connor looks up from where he’s sitting on the edge of the bed, his shoulders still tense, still healing. He exhales sharp
It had been a few days since Damien caught me sneaking around, and somehow, things had gone back to their uneasy rhythm. I hadn’t seen Connor since that night—until now.I turned the corner in the hallway and nearly collided with him. He looked different than before—less pale, more stable on his fe







