LYRA'S POV
Three hours.
Three hours of sitting in the observation chamber while my fate—while all marked wolves' fate—was debated behind closed doors. Three hours of Maya's hand in mine, her warmth the only thing keeping me anchored to present reality when my consciousness kept fragmenting across the thousands of dimensional states I now permanently inhabited.
Three hours of hell.
"Stop spiraling," Maya whispered, squeezing my fingers. "I can feel you slipping away into those shadow spaces. Stay here. With me."
I forced my awareness back, consolidating the scattered pieces of consciousness that had been drifting toward panic in dimensional layers where time moved differently and three hours felt like three centuries. "I'm here. I'm trying."
"I know you are." Her thumb traced circles on my palm, a grounding gesture that had become necessary every few minutes to prevent complete dissociation. "Whatever they decide, we face it together. All of us."
