3. Lyra
Chapter 3
Lyra
“Do you think Drew will welcome me back into her home after what happened?” I ask and draw near Colton, who has paused by the fireplace. It’s the same fireplace where my father and I shared countless conversations during my last visit here.
“You mean after you annihilated half of the Luminary Council—practically vaporized them?” Nyx chimes in from behind, causing a wave of nausea to wash over me. I feel an urgent need to escape.
“Shut up, Nyx,” Colton snaps then turns to me with a softer expression. “Drew will definitely welcome you back. She’s with us. After what you did, the rest of the council scattered. My parents have even retreated to Nighthold by now.”
It’s a relief to hear that.
“We need to go back then. Now,” I declare, ready to use my magic to transport us to the bridge.
“Wait, aren’t we going to discuss what happened here?” Nyx interjects, but I’m not in the state to delve into that conversation .
“I need some time...alone,” I say, my gaze shifting between Nyx’s frustrated look and Colton’s concerned one. They both nod, albeit reluctantly, understanding my plea for a moment’s solitude.
The journey back to the hive is uneventful, a small mercy for which I’m grateful. Once back, Nyx and Colton leave me to my thoughts after I assure them I’ll manage on my own. My room feels both comforting and isolating as I close the door behind them.
I find myself yearning for Chepi’s company, his presence a calming force amidst the storm of my emotions. Lili’s care for him eases one of my many worries, but it’s a small comfort against the tide of fear and uncertainty that threatens to drown me.
The dread of wielding my dark magic again, of the potential harm I could cause, knots my stomach. The control I managed over it with Athalda was only due to my weakened state, a temporary leash on a power that’s both exhilarating and horrifying.
Seeking some semblance of normalcy, I head to the bathroom to wash away the physical reminders of the day’s events. Stripping off my blood-stained clothes, I confront my reflection in the mirror, relieved to find my eyes a swirling mix of blue and green, untainted by the black veins of corruption. The sight offers a momentary respite, but it’s short lived. As I wash, the sight of dried blood under my fingernails—my father’s blood—overwhelms me, sending me reeling to the toilet where I’m gripped by dry heaves.
The tears that follow are not for him but for the pain he caused, the pain I’ve inflicted, and the inevitable suffering yet to come. The thought of losing control again, of the darkness within me breaking free and taking over, is a weight too heavy to bear right now. I try to tell myself the council members deserved to die, that Euric deserved to die, but that doesn’t make it any easier to swallow.
Eventually, I find the strength to rise, wash my face, and don the black nightgown Drew provided. I’m thankful she keeps this room stocked with clean clothes. Crawling into bed, I’m enveloped by the soft linens, a cocoon against the chaos of my thoughts and the world outside. Here, in the quiet darkness, I allow myself a moment to breathe, to mourn, and to steel myself for what lies ahead.
I might have been asleep for mere minutes or entire days for all I know when I’m roused by a soft knock on my door. Silently cursing the disturber, I hop out of bed.
Opening the door, I discover Colton in a pair of shorts, his hair tousled, and his impressive abs on display. Whether he’s just woken up or finished working out, I can’t ascertain.
“You were in pain. I felt it. Another nightmare?” he asks. Strangely, I can’t recall if I was dreaming, which is unusual. I must still be weak, too exhausted to even dream properly.
“I’m not sure,” I respond, tucking my hair behind my ears and gesturing for him to come inside.
“I need to talk to you about something,” he says, but the thought of discussing anything is overwhelming at the moment.
“Can it wait until tomorrow? I’m... My brain feels like mush,” I plead.
He smirks, a glimmer of understanding in his eyes, “Mush, huh? Sure, we can talk tomorrow, Princess,” he concedes, turning to leave. Yet the thought of him leaving fills me with a sudden sense of urgency. My moments with Colton are precious, especially with the uncertainty surrounding Nyx’s role in all this.
“Stay. Come to bed with me, please,” I say, offering a small smile.
“You never have to beg, my shadow,” Colton reassures me as he climbs into bed, pausing to kiss me on top of my head. He pulls me close, enveloping me in warmth and safety. Resting my head on his chest, I let out a sigh of relief, feeling his fingers gently massaging my scalp, playing with my hair, soothing both my mind and body almost instantly.
As I trace my fingers across his chest and down over the contours of his muscled stomach, a different sensation begins to replace my worry, transforming it into desire. “Colton,” I whisper, tilting my head back to lock onto his emerald eyes, which glow in the darkness.
“Yes?” he responds, his voice a soft hum. In that moment, I decide to lower my defenses, to open up entirely and let him feel the depth of my emotions. I lower my mental barriers, and I can tell the exact instant he senses the change—his lips find mine with an urgency that mirrors the sudden intensity of our connection.
Gods, how I want him—not merely as a distraction, but from a deep sense of longing. I’ve missed him, missed us together. He positions himself above me, and as I reach up, yearning for another kiss, he threads his fingers through my hair, gently tilting my head back while his other hand softly clasps my throat. He kisses me with an intensity that feels like both a discovery and a claim. His tongue moves with a familiarity that’s exploratory yet possessive, leaving me gasping for air and reveling in the sensation.
Each kiss feels like he’s marking me as his all over again.
“Fuck, Lyra,” he gasps as I pull away, desperate for air. When I face him again, he brings his forehead to mine, and our eyes lock. He lowers his shields, baring his soul to me. The torrent of emotions that floods me is staggering—not merely lust and desire but a genuine care and a profound yearning... Could it be love?
Though Colton has never uttered the words, this surge of emotion that washes over me, warming me from within, can only be described as such. My heart expands in response, soaking in the momentary connection until his defenses rise again, and I exhale a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding.
The sudden, overwhelming need for more of him courses through me, the mere thought of ever losing him igniting a sharp fear in my chest. In response, I reach up, my hand finding the back of his neck, gently coaxing him down until his lips meet mine once more. His lips, soft and yielding, draw me in, and I savor them—licking, nibbling, exploring each contour with a growing hunger. With my free hand, I tug at his shorts, a silent plea for closeness, until he complies, effortlessly shedding them with a swift kick.
He then lifts me slightly, enough to slide my nightgown upward, and our kiss breaks for a mere moment—long enough for him to remove my garment entirely.
His hand traces a path down the center of my body, and as he introduces a finger inside me, a moan escapes, blending into our kiss. The evidence of my desire for him is undeniable. He hums into the kiss, a sound laden with satisfaction, as he deepens the exploration with two fingers, skillfully moving within me.
“I want to feel you wrapped around my cock like this,” he whispers, voice thick, and my entire being yearns in response.
“Yes,” I breathe out, my hands seeking him out, confirming his readiness.
A soft plea escapes me, encouraging him closer, and when he positions himself at my entrance, I bite down on my lip in anticipation. The need for him to fill me, the need for more of him— all of him—is so strong in this moment.
The door bursts open, and I let out an embarrassing scream of surprise. “We’re under attack. Get dressed and get to the surface,” Nyx commands .
The intense fury in his eyes as they sweep over us before he slams the door sends a chill through me. Colton springs into action, quickly pulling on his shorts and tossing my clothes to me. I hastily pull on my nightgown and grab a black sweater from the closet to throw over it. As I step into my boots, Colton is already reaching for my hand, leaving me no time to process the chaos unfolding around us.
Colton pauses, looking down at me. He clasps my face with both hands and kisses me hard.
“We will continue this later,” he promises, and all I can do is nod, the intimate moment we shared already feeling like a distant memory. The haunting image of Nyx’s fiery gaze lingers in my mind. “Stay close and stay in control. I don’t know what’s out there, but try not to let your dark magic take over. If it does, know that I’m here and will guide you back, always.”
Taking my hand again, he tugs me out into the hallway.
Nyx is nowhere in sight, and the hallway is deserted, which isn’t unusual for this part of the hive. I hardly ever see anyone here. We go to the center of the hive, where staircases spiral up and down as far as the eye can see—yet there’s nothing. For a moment, I wonder if Nyx was playing some kind of joke, perhaps knowing we were in bed together and wanting to separate us. But then Colton pulls me into his side, and the familiar, comforting scent of him surrounds me as a gust of wind picks up around us, and we channel to the surface of the hive.
Nothing could have prepared me for the sight unfolding before us.