Familiar betrayal.

"She's weak. Just one quick strike, and it'll all be over."

Lyra stood in the dim hospital room, the cold gleam of her dagger reflecting in her widened, unblinking eyes.

Haelyn lay on the bed, her breathing shallow, her face unnaturally pale, the scent of antiseptics thick in the air.

Lyra tightened her grip on the weapon, her pulse erratic.

Why is my heart racing? This is just another job.

Her fingers trembled as she raised the dagger over Haelyn's chest.

Then….

A whisper.

Weak. Fragile. But sharp as a blade.

"You think I don't feel you?"

Lyra froze.

Haelyn's glowing blue eyes snapped open.

Lyra's breath caught in her throat.

Before she could react, Haelyn moved.

Fast.

Despite her fragile state, she grabbed Lyra's wrist with alarming speed.

"You," Haelyn rasped, her fingers tightening painfully around Lyra's wrist.

Lyra snarled, wrenching her arm free and stumbling backward.