~Lyra~

I swear I have never hated the sound of a private jet more in my life. Normally, it’s all sleek and luxury and oh my God, look at me, I’m in the clouds like some spoiled princess, but right now every low hum of the engine feels like a countdown to disaster.

And there’s Damon, sitting across from me like he didn’t just upend my entire sense of safety by bringing her on board. Tasha.

She’s curled up two rows back, wrapped in a blanket, looking all small and pitiful with that tiny scrape of dried blood still along her hairline.

And yeah, I know, the “morally correct” thing...