Norman's eyes flickered with something dark, something terrifying. The raw force with which Lyra had just blew Miranda across the floor left no room for doubt.
Her powers were no longer dormant. They were waking. Unleashing. And before they turned on him, he had to act.
Panic clawed at his chest, tangled with something more venomous— rage. He couldn't afford to lose now. Not to her. Not after everything he had done to keep the truth buried. Not after all the lies he had carefully crafted.
Then his gaze snapped to the pendant around Lyra's neck, the small charm pulsing faintly, as if it held a heartbeat. His breath hitched.
It wasn't just a pendant. It never had been.
It was a lock. A seal, blocking the curse they cast on her.
"Don't be a fool, Lyra," he spat, voice laced with desperation and venom.
