Chapter 8

Lyra

I didn’t breathe.

I couldn’t.

My lungs refused to work, my chest too tight, too full of everything I couldn’t say. The ache between my legs was still alive, still pulsing like a second heartbeat. Shame curled its claws into me, but so did something worse. Something deeper. Something dirtier.

Desire.

My robe was halfway open, clinging to my slick skin, exposing my thigh, my breast, the curve of my stomach still twitching with aftershocks I hadn’t earned.

And Tasha?

Tasha was standing there, sweat glowing on her skin, her hair a wild mess around her flushed face, and her eyes locked onto me like I was something she’d stepped in.

“Lyra?!”

Her voice cut through me like a lash.

It didn’t sound like a best friend’s voice.

It didn’t sound like concern.

It sounded like accusation.

It sounded like hate.

Like I’d violated something sacred.

Like I was the disgusting one.

I blinked, my vi