Lyra stirred at the sound of a low, guttural growl echoing softly through the chamber. Her eyes fluttered open, disoriented for a heartbeat, until they landed on the source.
Casian...
He was still asleep, but his body was tense, his breathing erratic. Beads of sweat clung to his brow, his face contorted in distress as he shifted slightly beneath the covers.
Alarm flooded her chest.
Without hesitation, Lyra reached for the towel resting on the nearby stand and gently dabbed the sweat from his forehead. Her movements were tender and careful, as though touching something fragile she couldn't bear to see broken.
"Casian…" she whispered, her voice trembling with worry.
She studied his face closely, trying to reach through the layers of whatever nightmare held him hostage. His fingers remained curled tightly around hers, refusing to let go even in unconsciousness.
But then his lips moved, and his voice raspy and barely coherent escaped in a broken whisper.
"No… no. Don't touch me."
