The applause rolled over her, louder this time, less cautious.Lyra stood in it and, for a heartbeat, felt herself from the outside: a woman in a dark suit, untranslated fury channeled into diction and law, holding the attention of a hall full of wolves and humans like it was nothing.A younger version of her hunched over a crib in a too-small apartment would have hated this.*You weren’t supposed to get good at this,* that girl whispered from somewhere in her ribs. *You were supposed to break it and walk away.*A crack opened under her sternum—not regret, not desire to run, but a brief, fierce grief for the simpler brutality of wanting only revenge.She let it be there.Then she breathed through it because the cost of being able to stand here this easily was exactly why she had to.Across the room, Aiden watched her with something fierce in his eyes. Luna clapped until her hands went pink, then, unable to contain herself, hopped up and down on her chair.*You were very loud,* Luna’s
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