LYRA'S POV
The moment I knock the torch from Kymon's grip, the entire place erupts with frantic murmurs and gasps.
His piercing eyes snap to mine—shocked at first, then darkening with fury, laced with something wicked. But I don't care. Right now, there are only two outcomes: either Caspian and I die, or Kymon does.
Keeper and an Omega step forward, ready to attack, but Kymon raises a hand, his unreadable gaze never leaving mine. At least now, Cas isn't in his grasp.
"Leave her," he orders, his voice eerily calm, though the storm beneath it is unmistakable. He drops his arm, tilting his head slightly. "I must admit, I'm surprised you actually kept your word."
"You must have been expecting otherwise," I counter, matching his expression.
He studies me in silence for five long seconds, then his lips curl into a slow, taunting smirk. "You have no idea, my dear."
I grind my teeth. "I am not your dear—"
"Oh, but you are."
