I shouldn't have gone so easy on you

Lyra tossed and turned, the unfamiliar comfort of the mattress doing little to soothe her restless mind. It was a stark contrast to the cold, unforgiving surfaces she had endured for so long. The soft sheets, the warmth of the bed, it all felt like a dream—one that was too good to be true. Despite her assurances to Penny that she would rest, sleep remained elusive. Her mind raced with doubts, fears, and the unsettling feeling that this moment, this kindness, could vanish as quickly as it had arrived.

After several more fruitless attempts to fall asleep, Lyra gave in. She couldn't bear to lie there any longer. With a quiet sigh, she slid off the bed, her bare feet brushing against the cool floor. She stood still for a moment, listening for any sounds outside her room, but the house was silent.

Slowly, she approached the door, her movements careful, deliberate. Her fingers grasped the handle, and with a soft turn, she opened it, stepping into the dark hallway. To her relief, no one was there to stop her. The house seemed empty, as though it was holding its breath.

Lyra moved silently down the hall, each step a quiet whisper on the floorboards. She had no destination in mind, only a vague sense of needing to get out, to escape the uncertainty that clung to her. Her feet seemed to guide her instinctively, and before long, she found herself at the entrance to the garden.

The night air was cool against her skin, a welcome contrast to the stifling warmth inside. She stepped further into the garden, closing her eyes as the wind brushed through her hair. It was as if the world outside was inviting her to breathe again, to feel something other than the suffocating weight of her past.

For a moment, she stood there, absorbing the quiet peace of the garden. The air smelled of fresh earth and blooming flowers, a scent she hadn't experienced in years. This—this was freedom. It was everything she had longed for, a taste of life beyond the walls that had caged her for so long.

But then, Penny's words echoed in her mind, a sharp reminder of the uncertainty she faced. "You have to rest, Lyra. It won't be long before things change. Don't make any rash decisions."

Lyra's heart clenched, and the dream-like sense of freedom began to feel fragile, like a fine thread ready to snap. The possibility of fleeing seemed so close, just within reach, but the fear of what would happen if she tried held her back. She wasn't sure she could make it on her own—not again. The world outside had already rejected her once, and what if it happened again?

Her eyes fluttered open, and she exhaled slowly, trying to calm the tight knot in her chest. The thought of running was tempting, but the reality of what lay ahead kept her rooted in place. She couldn't shake the fear that no matter where she went, she would always be a prisoner—trapped by her past, by her silence, by her very existence.

"Trying to run again?"

A voice shattered the silence, pulling Lyra from her thoughts. Her breath hitched, her eyes darting toward the towering tree beside her.

Perched on a thick branch was a man, one leg dangling lazily, his back resting against the trunk. His dark eyes locked onto hers, unreadable yet piercing, sending a shiver down her spine.

Lyra's face paled. She had no idea who he was—whether he was a threat or not—but every instinct screamed at her to run.

Without hesitation, she turned, her feet barely making a sound as she sprinted toward the mansion.

But before she could make it more than a few steps, a gust of wind swept past her, and suddenly, he was there.

Right in front of her.

She skidded to a stop, her heart hammering against her ribs.

Her mind reeled, flashes of the previous night surfacing, and then—

Her breath hitched.

It's him.

Her lips parted in silent shock, her entire body freezing in place.

Rowan smirked at the sight of her horror-stricken face. "Are you going to faint now? A weakling like you can only pass out instead of fighting." His tone was mocking, laced with amusement. "Ah… I shouldn't have gone so easy on you."

Lyra's stomach twisted in knots, fear gripping her so tightly she could barely breathe. The world around her blurred, the overwhelming presence of Rowan making her knees weak. Just when she thought the ground would swallow her whole, another voice cut through the tension like a blade.

"Stay away, Rowan!"

Lyra's head snapped to the side, her wide, panicked eyes landing on Casian as he strode toward them.

Before she could think, before she could even register what she was doing, she threw herself into his arms, trembling uncontrollably.

Casian's body stiffened for a brief moment before his arm instinctively wrapped around her. His grip was firm, steady—solid in a way that made her feel as if she wouldn't shatter.

Rowan chuckled, the sound low and taunting. "How will she ever stand for herself if she keeps acting like a scared puppy?"

Lyra kept her face buried against Casian's chest, refusing to look at Rowan. But his words struck deep, slicing through her like a blade. Weak. Powerless. Nothing.

It was the same judgment she had faced all her life.

Rowan cast her one last look, filled with disappointment and something close to disdain, before turning on his heel and vanishing into the shadows.

Casian exhaled slowly, his patience fraying. He tightened his hold on Lyra for a brief moment before pulling back just enough to meet her eyes. "Come, let's go back to your chamber."

Lyra could only nod frantically.

Casian led her inside, his grip on her wrist gentle but firm. Once they reached her chamber, he guided her to the bed, helping her sit.

Grabbing the glass of water from the bedside table, he handed it to her. "Drink."

She took it with shaky fingers, swallowing small sips in an attempt to calm herself.

Casian watched her carefully, his expression unreadable. After a long pause, he finally spoke, his voice even but laced with curiosity.

"Why were you roaming around like a ghost in the mansion?"

Lyra stiffened, her fingers tightening around the glass.

She wasn't sure how to answer.

Casian heaved a sigh when she refused to speak and without bothering much he stood up to leave.

He had barely reached the door when something clicked and his eyes darted back at Lyra, who seemed more than trouble now.