The man didn’t even know how close her voice came to a growl until he blinked and saw her eyes shift, gold flickering beneath her lashes.

“Feisty,” he muttered, he was about to hold her arm but before Lyra could move, a hand gripped his wrist from behind. The man froze.

“Let go,” a calm deep voice said very coldly

The bully turned his head to look at the man's face. The man behind him was taller, wearing a dark cloak damp from snow. His face wasn’t familiar, but the look in his ...