Chapter 17

He screamed my name so loudly—“Lyra, dock!”—that my ears rang, and before I could react, he yanked me against his broad chest. The force of his pull upended my senses; the world spun, and darkness swallowed me whole.

When I came to, my eyelids fluttered open to a soft glow in my favorite hue—warm, inviting purples that spread across the walls like dawn. The familiar shapes of my things surrounded me: the velvet cushion on the armchair, the pastel posters I’d pinned to the corkboard, the little stack of books on the nightstand. I was back in my room at Alistair’s house. Relief washed over me, quickly replaced by a thudding ache behind my eyes. Every movement felt heavy, as though gravity had doubled. I tried to sit up, only to feel the room tilt and my head pound harder. Blinking, I squeezed my eyes shut, willing my brain to accept that I was truly awake. A few deep breaths later, I cracked them open again—and heard the door creak.

Sienna slipped inside, her brow drawn in