Chapter 11

The whole day, Lyra couldn't stop thinking about everything she had read the night before. She barely ate, her appetite lost in the whirlwind of thoughts. Wren was also not home she had left a note saying she had gone to visit someone. God knows who that someone was, but Lyra didn't dwell on it much, too consumed by her own thoughts.

As she tried to work on her next writing project, she struggled to focus. No matter how hard she tried, her mind was too preoccupied, and she couldn't write more than two pages. By evening, the frustration became unbearable. She decided she needed a break.

Changing into a fresh set of clothes, she pulled on a long coat and a beanie, tucking her braided hair beneath it.

She was absentminded, lost in thought, so much so that when she reached the entrance door, a sudden chill ran down her spine. She felt a gaze on her. Her heart shuddered. She glanced to both sides but found no one.

With trembling hands, she opened the door, only to feel as if she had walked straight into an invisible wall. Her eyes widened. What is going on? Am I trapped?

For five long seconds, her surroundings felt distorted, but then clarity returned, and that's when she sensed it—the barrier surrounding her house.

"Huh? What is this?" she murmured, reaching out hesitantly.

As soon as her fingers touched the barrier, a spark of golden light crackled against it, creating a buzzing sound. She looked at her hands, confusion swirling in her mind. On instinct, she pushed against the invisible force, but the barrier retaliated. The impact sent her stumbling back, pain blooming in her chest.

Someone is here... I have to get out of here!

Before she could act, a dark shadow emerged before her. It lunged at her, and she barely managed to dodge to the side. Panic gripped her she had no weapon, nothing to defend herself with. But as if guided by instinct, she thrust her hands forward. A burst of golden light shot from her palms, striking the shadow. It recoiled, letting out a sharp, eerie wail.

Her heart pounded furiously.

This time, when she pushed forward, she broke through the barrier. But before she could go any further, the shadow attacked again.

A blur of movement flashed before her. A second figure had entered the fight, clashing with the shadow. Lyra stepped aside, her breath quick and shallow. Now that she was no longer directly in the chaos, she could see more clearly. The one who had attacked her was cloaked in black, his face hidden behind a dark mask, making him look almost like a shadow.

The battle raged for a few moments before the shadow let out a pained cry and retreated. Lyra barely had time to process what had happened before, just as suddenly, the masked man vanished into the night.

"Are you alright?"

Lyra looked up, her breath hitching as her eyes met his. For a moment, she was entranced drawn into the deep intensity of his gaze. The world around her faded, the lingering fear momentarily forgotten.

"Yeah... thank you," she whispered, still shaken.

Rowan studied her, his expression unreadable. He hadn't expected to meet her today certainly not under these circumstances. Yet, despite the chaos, a strange sense of relief settled in him.

He quickly masked his emotions, schooling his features into neutrality. "Are you sure?" he asked again, his voice steady but laced with concern.

Lyra sighed, running a hand over her arm as if trying to shake off the lingering tension. She looked up at him again, meeting his gaze. For a moment, she felt entranced.

"Yeah... I'm fine. Thank you so much for your help," she whispered.

The man studied her with quiet concern, but there was something else in his eyes something she couldn't quite place.

"If you don't mind… you can come with me. My house is nearby," he said. "You're probably still shaken by what happened."

Lyra hesitated. Her mind felt numb, logic warning her against going anywhere with a stranger. But her instincts didn't resist. There was no fear, no unease. Instead, an odd familiarity settled within her, as though she had met him before.

She nodded.

The man held her gaze for a moment longer before speaking.

"My name is Rowan," he said. "Rowan Blackwood."

At the sound of his name, something stirred deep inside her an unexplainable pull.

Before she knew it, they had reached Rowan's house. He pushed the door open and stepped aside to let her in.

Lyra hesitated for a moment before stepping inside. The warmth of the house was a stark contrast to the cold outside. She stood near the entrance, unsure of what to do next.

Rowan closed the door behind her. Clearing his throat, he asked, "Umm… would you like some coffee?"

Not knowing what else to do, Lyra nodded. "Sure."

As she glanced around, she noticed that his house was surprisingly clean neat and organized, yet it felt somewhat empty.

Rowan walked toward the kitchen, his footsteps quiet. "Make yourself comfortable," he said over his shoulder.

Lyra moved further inside, taking in her surroundings. There were few decorations, just the basics, but everything seemed carefully placed. She sat down on the couch, her mind still racing with everything that had happened.

A few minutes later, Rowan returned with two steaming mugs. He handed one to her before sitting across from her.

"So," he began, watching her closely, "do you have any idea who or what was after you?"

Lyra gulped, tightening her grip around the warm mug, letting its heat seep into her cold fingers. She shook her head.

"No… this was the first time it happened. I don't know who is behind it," she murmured. "Something like this has never happened before."

She lowered her gaze, staring into the dark liquid as if it held the answers she was searching for.

Rowan studied her carefully. "Are you sure?" he asked, his voice calm but laced with something deeper concern, curiosity, maybe even frustration.

Lyra met his gaze, searching for any sign that he knew more than he was letting on. "Yes," she said firmly. "I have no idea who would want to hurt me."

Rowan leaned back, taking a slow sip of his coffee. His expression remained unreadable, but his mind was racing.

Someone had gone after her. That meant they knew who she was. And if they knew who she was… they'd come back.