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He stared at her. Silent. Haunted.

“I’m sorry,” he said before he just… left.

The door clicked shut behind him.

Lyra sat there, alone, still tasting him on her lips.

Still aching, wondering what in the hell just happened. But then again how could she had expected anything different?

16

LYRA

Lyra had never regretted kissing someone, until now.

Not because the kiss had been bad. Far from it.

No, Jace had kissed like he was starved and she was salvation. He’d touched her like he wanted to etch her into his memory. And when they came together, it had felt like the universe had finally clicked into place.

Then he left.

Just like that.

No whispered promise. No explanation.

Just an apology tossed over his shoulder like she was some mistake he needed to walk off.

Now, twenty-four hours later, Lyra sat cross-legged on her cousin Calla’s workbench, picking at the frayed edges of her sweater sleeve while her heart tried to stitch itself back together.

Calla had tried. Stars, she’d tried. Comfort muffins, distraction spells, an entire bottle of mood wine. Nothing worked.

Lyra had smiled. Lied. Said she just needed space.

But the truth?

She feltstupid.

Stupid for giving in.

Stupid for letting her heart get tangled in someone who couldn’t even say her name without flinching.

“Don’t,” Milo warned from his perch near the window, tail flicking.

“I didn’t say anything,” she muttered.

“You don’t have to. Your guilt’s louder than Petra’s garden gnome when it’s underfed.”

She scowled. “That gnome threatened me with a rake.”

“You’re spiraling.”

“I’m processing.”

“You’re brooding in an herbalist shop and pretending those tears are just leftover pollen.”

She sniffed. Okay, maybe he had a point.

“I just—” she sighed, curling in on herself. “I don’t get him, Milo. He wanted me. Iknowhe did. But then it’s like he looked at me after and remembered I’m the last thing he should want.”