JACK-EYE
The walls of the motel room press in, trapping her scent, her magic. I'm still burning from the inside out. Whatever she did with that arcane kiss, it's crawling under my skin like electricity, making my wolf pace and snarl. I breathe through my teeth, fighting for control.
When I hear Lyre invite Thom in, my stomach drops. I know what's coming. What she's about to do. But knowing and seeing are two different kinds of torture.
The door creaks open and there he is—the wizard. Damp hair hanging in his face, smelling of cheap motel soap and nervousness. Too clean. Too weak. I don't move from my spot against the wall, don't speak. Just watch, every muscle in my body locked tight as steel.
Thom freezes when he sees me, his eyes darting between us. "I—uh—"
Lyre slides past him, shutting the door with a soft click. "Come in, come in. Let's get this over with." Her voice is bright, casual, like she's about to help him move furniture instead of—
