POV: Lyra.

He pulled away from me like I had burned him.

One second, his lips were on mine - cold, terrifying, full of something I didn’t understand and the next, he was gone.

His back hit the far wall. His hands clutched his chest like he was in agony. Like something inside him had torn open.

For a moment he was here. With me.

But then he disappeared, and I was alone.

Completely, utterly alone.

The silence in his chambers settled around me like fog. Heavy. Watching. I sat down slowly on the edge of the bed, my knees shaking beneath the weight of what had just happened.

He kissed me.

No, that wasn’t right.

He let himself feel me.

And something inside him had broken.

I didn’t sleep.

Not even when the candles burned low and shadows grew taller. My body ached with exhaustion, but my mind replayed that kiss again and again, the way his eyes widened, the way his breath caught, the look on his face like he was afraid of himself.

What had I done?

And more importantly...

Why did it feel like he wanted to be undone?

The next morning, Caspian was gone completely without a trace.

No one would say where.

When I entered the great hall for breakfast, there was an empty seat beside me. The servants were tight-lipped. The king was absent, and so were most of the royal family, except for his brothers, Daron and Marcus, who whispered behind their wine glasses.

A woman in black silk sat two seats away, watching me like a predator sizing up its prey.

I tried not to look shaken.

But every breath I took was filled with his scent, and every bite of food felt like ash in my mouth.

Later that afternoon, I wandered.

I told myself it was just to clear my head, but the truth was, I wanted answers. I wanted something real in this place of silence and secrets.

The west wing was quiet, but something tugged at me. A strange warmth on the back wall of Caspian’s chamber. It pulsed faintly under my fingertips, like a heartbeat behind the stone.

Magic.

Old magic.

I pressed my hand against it, but it went still.

____________

POV: Caspian.

Her scent was still on my hands.

It clung to my skin like sunlight after a storm. Soft. Floral. Dangerous.

I needed it gone.

I needed her gone.

I found Selene in the high tower, exactly where I knew she’d be. She always waited, dressed like a bride in mourning, pretending not to long for the crown.

She smiled when she saw me. “You came.”

“I need to feed.”

She didn’t hesitate. She bared her neck, almost too eagerly.

Her blood had sustained me before. Sharp-tasting, bitter but potent. Enough to quiet the madness, if only briefly.

I leaned in, teeth elongating.

She closed her eyes.

And I bit.

But this time, it was like drinking fire.

Pain seared through my throat, burning like molten glass. My hands shot out, shoving her away. I stumbled back, choking. My vision blurred, my veins screamed.

Selene hit the wall with a gasp. “Caspian?”

My knees hit the ground.

Boom. Boom. Boom.

My heart thundered not with power, but rage. Rejection.

Her blood no longer soothed me.

It rejected me.

Or I rejected her.

“Only one calms you now,” Vaelith whispered.

“Only one steadies the fire. You know her name.”

I gritted my teeth and slammed a fist into the stone floor.

Lyra.

It was her blood. Her scent. Her touch.

Only she could quiet the storm.

And that terrified me more than anything.

Selene stared down at me, her voice trembling. “What... what did I do wrong?”

I couldn’t answer.

Because the truth was too cruel.

It wasn’t her.

It was me.

______________

POV: Lyra.

The library was colder than the rest of the castle.

Not in temperature but in presence. The kind of cold that made your skin itch, that filled the silence with unspoken things.

I ran my fingers along the spines of books older than my kingdom. All dust and forgotten names. But before I could settle on one, I felt it.

A gaze.

I turned quickly.

Queen Vireya stood in the archway.

She hadn’t moved. Her long black hair draped over her shoulders, her lips sealed in that constant, tragic silence.

They said she hadn’t spoken in years.

But now, she did.

“Be careful.”

I froze.

Her voice was soft. Dry like parchment. Older than the room around her.

She took a slow step closer.

“Drayveil breaks more than it protects.”

Then she turned and walked away without another word.

I stood frozen for a full minute.

Was it a warning?

A threat?

Or a truth I hadn’t yet earned the right to understand?

By the time I returned to the west wing, night had fallen.

Candlelight flickered weakly as I approached my chambers. I paused outside the door, suddenly unsure.

The stone beneath my feet felt warmer than before.

The wall behind the bed still hummed, just faintly like a whisper the stone was trying to hide.

I stepped inside.

The bed was untouched.

He hadn’t come back.

I sighed and leaned against the wall, letting the silence wrap around me like a tight cloak.

And then...

I felt it.

A shift in the air.

A presence in the dark.

I turned toward the balcony.

The shadows moved.

A tall figure stood just beyond the archway. Still. Watching.

“Caspian?” I whispered.

He didn’t answer.

But I saw it.

Not him, not really.

Just his silhouette... and something darker rising behind it.

A second shadow.

Eyes like embers.

Smiling through him.

Watching me.

Wearing his face.