Lyra’s POv

A few hours ago…

I knew the sound of my father’s boots. Growing up, I had learned the sound of his footsteps so I was always out of his way before he stepped into the house. I hated that I had sent for him and even more, that he was going to see him this way —chained and desperate.

But I needed to survive.

When the footsteps stopped, I knew he was standing by the gate. I raised my head and met his growling face.

“I should have killed you with your useless mother,” he said.

Even though his words hurt, I smiled. “You didn’t kill her, River,”...