LYRA

The wind became colder all of a sudden. It tugged at my hair and wrapped around my arms like a warning I chose to ignore. I could feel Vincent's steady eyes on me, waiting for an answer. The weight of everything I’d kept buried until now pressed against my chest making it hard for me to breathe.

He wanted the truth. Fine.

“You were right," I said quietly, still facing the city lights. " I shouldn’t have known those things. But I did.”

He didn’t speak, only moved closer. I felt the warmth of him behind me, that sharp, unrestrained energy he always carried.

“When I died," I began,...