The moment her eyes caught the glint of metal, I knew. She saw.
I cursed silently and tugged my coat tighter, hiding the weapon before the question could spill from her lips. Lyra didn't understand — couldn't understand — what it meant for me to carry it tonight.
She thought I was dangerous because of my temper, because of the shadows I let slip through in quiet moments. But the truth was worse. The danger wasn't just in my heart, it was in my hands, in the choices I had already made long before she walked into my life.
I turned my back to her, forcing air into my lungs as if control could be summoned. I had promised myself I wouldn't drag her into this. I had promised myself she would never see me this way. But promises were fragile things, and her voice — that soft, trembling whisper of "Kairo, I'm not afraid of you" — was enough to shatter me.
If she only knew. If she saw the blood already on my hands, the ghosts that clung to me every night, she would choke on those words.
Still, part of me wanted to test her. To tell her everything. To lay myself bare and see if she would stay. But another part — the colder, sharper part of me — whispered that I should push her away, cut her out, before she got pulled into the storm I couldn't stop.
"Why do you have that?" Her voice finally broke the silence.
I stiffened. I had hoped she wouldn't ask, but of course she would. Lyra wasn't the type to let things go. She stepped closer, the sound of her bare feet brushing the wooden floor.
I turned slowly, letting her see only enough of my face to keep her guessing. "Protection."
Her brows furrowed. "From what? We're not in danger here."
I almost laughed at the innocence of that statement. If only she knew the people who were watching, the enemies I had earned without meaning to, the shadows waiting just beyond the safety of her naïve belief in peace.
"You think danger waits for permission to arrive?" I asked instead, my voice sharp enough to slice the tension between us.
She flinched but didn't step back. Brave. Stupidly brave. "Then let me in. If you're carrying that… if something's coming, I deserve to know. Don't shut me out, Kairo."
Her words pierced deeper than the blade I kept hidden. I wanted to grab her, to tell her everything, to let her drown in me completely. But I couldn't. Because once she knew, there would be no turning back.
I exhaled slowly. "Lyra, if you follow me down this path, there won't be light left for you."
"Maybe I don't need the light," she whispered.
Her defiance sent a fire through my chest, dangerous and intoxicating. I reached for her, fingers brushing her wrist, just to feel the pulse racing beneath her skin. The connection was electric, terrifying, perfect.
But then — a sound.
A crack outside the window. A shift of shadow. A noise too deliberate to be the wind.
My entire body went rigid. I shoved Lyra behind me instinctively, my hand sliding inside my coat to wrap around the cold steel. My heart thundered, not from fear for myself, but from the sudden, overwhelming realization that she was no longer safe.
Whoever was out there… they had finally found us.