Lyra had no idea how long she had slept. Darkness clung to her senses, and her body felt like a weight she couldn't escape. But the moment consciousness returned, a parched ache gnawed at her throat.
"Water..."
The word was a faint whisper. Her fingers twitched, reaching for the blurred shape of a glass, when suddenly, the bed dipped beneath her.
"Don't move," a familiar voice commanded, gentle yet firm.
Her vision cleared enough to see Casian leaning over her, his sharp, exhausted features softening as he helped her sit up. He pressed the glass to her lips, tipping it slowly so she wouldn't choke.
Cool water slid down her throat, a relief she hadn't known she needed. But as clarity returned, so did her confusion. Her body felt weak, a dull ache settling in her limbs, but that wasn't what captured her attention.
It was Casian.
Pale, dark circles were etched beneath his eyes, and his usually composed expression was marred by an unfamiliar tightness. Worry.
