Lyra’s Suspicion
The academy grounds were cloaked in an eerie stillness as dusk settled, the spires casting shadows that seemed alive, stretching and shifting with the fading light. In the training hall, Lyra paced, her silver eyes sharp and restless. Frustration simmered beneath her skin, her wolf on edge. Eryon had been distant, his demeanor guarded, his actions more erratic with each passing day.
When he finally arrived, the tension between them was immediate.
“What’s going on with you?” Lyra demanded, her voice cutting through the stillness like a blade.
Eryon hesitated, his amber eyes darting to the dim corners of the hall as though searching for something—or someone. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he replied, his tone clipped and unconvincing.
Lyra’s wolf growled faintly, her instincts flaring at his evasion. “Don’t lie to me, Eryon,” she said, stepping closer. “You’ve been acting strange ever since the tournament. Something happened, and you’re not telling me.”
Eryon’s jaw tightened, his gaze stubbornly avoiding hers. “It’s nothing you need to worry about,” he said, crossing the room to pick up a training blade. His movements were mechanical, his focus forced.
Lyra followed him, her frustration mounting with every step. “If you’re hiding something, it’s going to get us both killed,” she said, her voice rising with her wolf’s agitation.
Eryon turned sharply, his amber eyes flashing in the dim light. “I’m handling it, Lyra,” he snapped, the sharp edge of his tone slicing through her concern.
Before she could respond, a familiar voice echoed from the shadows, smooth and mocking.
“Oh, don’t be so dramatic,” Misery drawled as she stepped into the light, her crimson eyes gleaming with amusement. “Your brother’s just made a new friend.”
Lyra’s wolf bristled at the sight of Misery, every instinct screaming danger. She stepped in front of Eryon, her stance protective, her voice low and threatening. “What are you doing here?”
Misery smirked, her crimson gaze shifting between the twins, savoring the tension in the room. “Relax, darling,” she purred. “I’m just here to make sure Eryon stays… intact. After all, he has so much potential, don’t you think?”
Eryon’s fists clenched at his sides, his wolf pacing restlessly beneath his skin. He said nothing, but his silence only deepened the unease that crackled in the air.
Lyra stepped forward, her blade catching the faint torchlight. “Stay away from him,” she warned, her voice low and deadly.
Misery laughed softly, a sound that was both amused and cutting. “Oh, Lyra,” she said, tilting her head as though pitying her. “You have no idea what you’re protecting, do you?”
The weight of her words hung in the air, thick with insinuation and menace. Lyra’s grip tightened on her blade, her wolf pushing against her control, demanding action. She didn’t trust Misery, not with her brother’s safety and not with the secrets they carried.
The tension in the room was electric, the three of them frozen in a standoff as the unspoken threats and unanswered questions swirled around them like a gathering storm. Lyra’s pulse raced as she met Misery’s amused gaze, silently vowing that no matter what game Misery was playing, she wouldn’t let Eryon become her pawn.
