Lyra ran through the dark bush, her heart pounding in her chest. The midnight air was cold against her face as she ducked under trees and jumped over fallen logs. She had slipped away from the event without anyone noticing—or so she thought.
The old oak tree was just ahead, its massive form looming in the darkness. As she got closer, she slowed down and caught her breath. What if this was a trap? What if Dorian wasn't really trying to help her?
A twig snapped behind her. Lyra spun around, ready to fight.
"Easy there," a familiar voice said. "It's just me."
Dorian stepped out from behind a tree, his hands raised to show he meant no harm. In the moonlight, Lyra could see his friendly smile—the same smile she remembered from when they were kids.
"Dorian," she whispered, relief washing over her. "You actually came."
