The scream that tore through the Blackwood courtyard was not divine; it was painfully, hideously human. Isabella Vance, stripped of her silver divinity and her vampire immortality, was a blurred streak of white silk and desperation as she lunged for Kaelen. In her hand, the silver dagger—the very blade that had severed Lyra’s soul three years ago—gleamed with a dull, hungry light.Lyra Thorne didn't shift. She didn't call upon the Void. She simply moved.With a speed that made the air crack, Lyra stepped into Isabella’s path. She didn't use a weapon. She caught Isabella’s wrist mid-air, the sound of bone meeting bone echoing like a gunshot against the silent stone walls.Isabella gasped, her eyes wide with a manic, glassy terror. "He has to die, Lyra! If he lives, the Goddess will never come back! We will be left in this... this filth!""The Goddess is gone, Isabella," Lyra said, her voice a low, lethal vibration that seemed to pull the very tempe
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