Chapter 37

Lyra’s POV

“Let’s go.” Alistair reached out, took my hand, and guided me up the short stairwell into the private jet. Once I was settled in my seat, he moved to the cockpit.

His decision to pilot our flight caught me completely off guard. “Huh! You’re flying?” I exclaimed, my voice filled with surprise.

He flashed me a mischievous grin. “Yes, wife,” he said, his tone half-teasing, half-confident. Thoughts raced through my mind: Alistair was good at many things, but flying a jet? I could practically hear the unspoken question behind those words. Leaning across the aisle, he buckled my seatbelt with practiced ease. The sudden closeness made me inhale sharply, and I imagined he noticed the hitch in my breath; he only smiled more broadly at me. My cheeks felt as if they might catch fire, so I turned my head to the window.

Through the side window, I watched him handle the controls with unshakable confidence—flicking switches, adjusting levers, tapping butto