~Lyra~

I held him while he whispered the names of people he wasn’t sure were still alive. I held him while he said things I knew he would never say again.

Words like, “I should’ve known.” Words like, “They depended on me.” Words like, “I let them die.” I held him while his tears slid down his cheeks and into my hair, while his hands fisted in the back of my dress like he needed something to grip or he’d slip into nothingness.

“I don’t know how to fix this,” he said, voice low and hoarse. “I’ve fought wars. I’ve ended bloodlines. I’ve outlived betrayals. But this? This is the...