Page 44 of Angel of Ruin

"I'm not asking for protection," Lyra says, her voice soft but determined. There's a light that burns in her blue eyes that refuses to give out. "I'm asking for a chance. That's all I've ever wanted."

Sighing, I shake my head slightly. "Your incessant determination might just be the best and worst thing about you."

"It's gotten me this far, hasn't it?" she whispers, leaning into my touch as I graze my fingers along the edge of her chin. "Please. I can do it.Youknow this, too."

I run a hand through my hair, my resolve crumbling. Lyra's determination is infectious, and I find myself nodding despite my better judgment.

"Fine,” I huff. I'm risking my reputation for you, I hope you know that."

Her eyes light up as her mouth slightly falls open. "You mean you'll help me?"

"Against my better judgment, yes."

So I do. I reach out to the overseers who agree to give Lyra one last trial. They think it would be the grand finale, watching the girl who survived die in front of an audience.

And this time, they’ll bind my magic.

I deny caring, of course. I only want to make the trials more interesting – or at least that’s what they think. So they let Lyra have this, and I hurry back to her.

“I can’t believe I’m going to do it.” She’s been thrilled since I told her, and I can’t get her to understand the dangers waiting.

"Listen carefully, little nexari. The final trial isn't just another obstacle course. It's a massive magical labyrinth."

Lyra's brow furrows, her deep blue eyes clouding with confusion. "A labyrinth?" she repeats, her voice barely above a whisper.

I lean in closer, my breath ghosting over her ear. "Not just any labyrinth, little nexari. It's a living, breathing nightmare. The walls shift like restless beasts, portals blink in and out of existence on a whim. You'll need every fucking ounce of wit, strength, and speed you possess just to survive, let alone complete it."

She nods slowly, her face a mask of concentration as she absorbs the information. I can practically see the gears turning in that pretty little head of hers. "What's the goal?" she asks, her voice stronger now, determination flickering in her eyes.

I can't help but admire her resilience. Most humans would be pissing themselves at the mere thought of the labyrinth. But not my Lyra.

Fuck, when did I start thinking of her as mine?

"There's an artifact at the center. Reach it, and it'll transport you out to a safe platform. That's how you win." I pause, making sure she understands the gravity of the situation. "But it won't be easy. There are beasts in there, traps at every turn."

Lyra takes a deep breath, squaring her shoulders. Her determination is palpable, and for a moment, I'm reminded of a warrior preparing for battle. In a way, she's exactly that. "Ican do it. I've trained hard for this," she says, her voice steady despite the fear I can sense beneath the surface.

I can't help myself. I reach out and grab her arm, my grip firm but not painful. The warmth of her skin against my palm sends an unexpected jolt through me. "This isn't a game, Lyra. One wrong move and you're dead. No second chances," I warn, my voice gruff with an emotion I can't quite name. I need her to understand the gravity of what she's about to face.

She meets my gaze, her blue eyes unwavering. There's a strength there that I hadn't noticed before, and it catches me off guard. "I understand. Thank you for telling me," she says, her voice soft but resolute.

As she turns to leave, I feel a tightness in my chest that I've never experienced before. It's as if an invisible hand is squeezing my heart. "Lyra," I call out, surprising myself. I want to say more, to warn her, to protect her, but the words stick in my throat. What the fuck is wrong with me?

She pauses at the door, looking back at me.

"Don't..." I swallow hard, struggling with the words. "Don't disappoint me."

A small smile plays at her lips. "I won't. I promise."

As the door closes behind her, I'm left wondering if I've just sealed her fate or given her the key to survival. Out of my fondness for the human girl, I'm desperately hoping it's the latter.

If this is going to work, I need to make sure that no one fucks up the trial with any more instance of sabotage. My mind fixates on Raxis and his penchant for cruelty. He'll stop at nothing to make sure no human earns their wings.

So against better judgment, I leave my office and head off to find him. Thankfully, he's alone in his office, head in a book. When I enter, he laughs dryly and shuts his book loudly.

"To what do I owe the pleasure?" he asks sarcastically.

"Cut the shit. I know you want to mess with this final trial and I won't let you."

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