Page 16

LYRA

L yra 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 felt stupid .

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. I know he did. But then it’s like he looked at me after and remembered I’m the last thing he should want.”

Milo tilted his head. “You ever think maybe it’s not about you?”

She arched a brow. “You defending him now?”

“No. I’m saying maybe it’s about the mate bond. About what it means. About how big it feels when you don’t think you deserve it.”

Lyra’s chest tightened. “That would be easier to believe if he hadn’t bolted like the sheets were on fire.”

“He’s a fool.”

She smiled faintly. “Yeah. But he’s my fool. Or... I thought he might be. Plus, who knows if it even is the mate bond. You and Calla could be full of it. He may just want me, but not enough to really want me.”

The doorbell above the shop jingled, and Milo perked up, his ears flattening.

She looked up as the door creaked open and Ezra stepped inside.

He didn’t belong in sunlight. Lyra knew that instinctively. Too smooth. Too composed. His smile was sharp and his charm came wrapped in silk—but silk could smother.

Still, she didn’t move.

He paused, hands tucked casually in his coat pockets, and offered her a slow, practiced smile.

“Didn’t mean to intrude,” he said. “Just checking on the stock my pack was supposed to drop off for Calla.”

“She’s upstairs,” Lyra said evenly.

Ezra glanced at Milo, then back to her. “Mind if I wait?”

She hesitated. Milo made a disgruntled noise deep in his throat.

“It’s a free shop,” she said finally.

Ezra stepped inside, the door closing softly behind him. “One of my members saw you at karaoke,” he said conversationally. “They said you lit up the room.”

Her stomach clenched. “Thanks.”

“You’ve got presence,” he said, inching closer, still respectful—almost. “Not just magic. Something more... magnetic.”

She snorted. “Is this your new tactic? Compliments and flowers?”

He smiled, unfazed. “Only when they’re true.”

She looked away.

“I’m not Jace,” he said after a pause. “I don’t pretend I don’t want what’s in front of me.”

Lyra’s breath caught hating at how accurate he seemed to be reading her.

Ezra took one more step, close now—but not touching. “You deserve to be wanted, Lyra. Openly. Without shame.”

And gods help her, part of her wanted to believe it.

Wanted something simple. Something that didn’t come with mixed signals and pain in its wake.

But this?

Ezra?

He didn’t feel right .

Not like Jace had.

Still, she didn’t move when he reached out and gently tucked a stray curl behind her ear.

Didn’t speak when he let his hand linger a moment too long.

Then Calla’s voice rang from the stairwell, sharp and welcome.

“Ezra. Didn’t hear the door.”

He turned smoothly, stepping back with a smile. “Just checking on that elixir blend. No rush.”

Calla glanced at Lyra, who gave her a tight, unreadable look.

“Got it packed,” Calla said, eyes flicking between them. “You can grab it on your way out.”

Ezra nodded, gave Lyra one last lingering glance, then turned to leave with a tip of his head.

When the door clicked shut, Calla was already crossing the room.

“You okay?”

Lyra stared at the space Ezra had just vacated. “I think I’m madder at myself than I am at him.”

“Why?”

“Because for a second, I almost let it happen. I almost let him make me feel better.”

Calla wrapped an arm around her. “You’ve been hurting. And you’re human. Mostly.”

Lyra laughed once, hollow. “I feel like I’ve got a ‘Free Emotional Damage’ sign taped to my back.”

“No,” Calla said firmly. “You’ve got a heart. A big one. And it’s not your fault Jace hasn’t figured out what to do with it yet.”

Lyra leaned into her, closing her eyes.

And told herself she hadn’t just let another wolf in.

Because she hadn’t.

Not really.

But she wasn’t sure how many more times she could let herself be burned.