Adrian’s Investigation
The library of Nightshade Academy was quiet except for the faint rustle of pages turning and the occasional creak of wooden chairs. Adrian sat at a corner table, his eyes scanning the faded ink of a centuries-old tome. The words blurred together, their meaning obscured by the fog of his frustration.
For weeks, he’d been chasing answers about Lyra and Eryon, every lead slipping through his fingers like sand. The twins were careful—too careful—and their guarded nature only fueled his suspicion. Yet, there was something more, something that unsettled him far beyond the secrecy: his growing feelings for Lyra.
It was maddening. Every glance, every word she spoke seemed designed to both draw him closer and push him away.
He slammed the book shut, the echo drawing a few irritated looks from nearby students. Adrian ignored them, running a hand through his hair. His patience was wearing thin, and the King’s demands loomed over him like a sword hanging by a thread.
Later that evening, he found Lyra in the library. She sat at a table near the far corner, her silver eyes focused on a worn map spread before her. Adrian approached quietly, watching as her hand traced over the faded markings with a mix of intensity and unease.
She stiffened as he drew near, her wolf instincts undoubtedly alerting her to his presence. “What are you doing here?” she asked without looking up.
“I could ask you the same thing,” Adrian replied, his tone sharper than he intended.
Lyra’s gaze finally met his, and Adrian felt that familiar pull, the inexplicable connection that had haunted him since the moment they met.
“Why do you keep running from me?” he asked, his voice raw with frustration.
Lyra froze, her heart hammering. “I’m not running,” she said quietly, though her words lacked conviction.
“Yes, you are,” Adrian pressed, stepping closer. His crimson eyes searched hers, trying to unravel the secrets she kept so carefully hidden. “Every time I try to get close, you shut me out. What are you so afraid of?”
Lyra swallowed hard, the ache in her chest nearly unbearable. “You wouldn’t understand,” she whispered, her voice trembling.
Adrian’s expression softened, the frustration in his eyes replaced by something deeper, something vulnerable. “Then help me understand,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “Because I don’t know how much longer I can do this.”
The raw emotion in his tone made Lyra’s resolve falter. She opened her mouth to respond, but no words came. The truth hovered on the tip of her tongue, but it was a truth she couldn’t afford to share—not with him, not with anyone.
