Chapter 27: Stranger things

Kael

Something was wrong.

I felt it before I heard it, before the guards shifted, before the air itself tightened like it was bracing for impact. It wasn’t loud. It wasn’t obvious. It was the kind of wrong that crept in quietly and settled under your skin.

And once it did, it didn’t leave.

I was already moving before I fully understood why.

The corridor outside Lyra’s room stretched ahead of me, dimly lit, lined with guards who straightened the moment they saw me, but I barely registered them. My focus was elsewhere, locked on the faint disturbance pulsing through the air like a heartbeat that didn’t belong to anyone.

Or anything.

It was coming from her room.

My jaw tightened and I picked up my pace.

By the time I reached the door, the guards were already uneasy, their hands hovering too close to their weapons, their eyes flicking toward the markings carved into the walls as though they expected them to react.

“What happened?” I asked.

One of them swallowed before answering. “Nothing, sir… but it feels—”

“I know what it feels like.”

I didn’t wait for the rest.

I pushed the door open.

The moment I stepped inside, it hit me fully.

The air was heavier, thicker, like something unseen had taken up space and refused to leave. The markings along the walls flickered faintly, reacting to something they couldn’t contain, and for a split second, the room felt smaller than it should have been.

Lyra sat on the bed, curled in on herself, shaking.

My chest tightened.

“Lyra.”

Her head snapped up at the sound of my voice, her eyes wide, unfocused for a second before they locked onto me. Relief flashed across her face so quickly it almost hurt to see.

“You’re here,” she breathed.

I stepped inside, closing the door behind me as my gaze swept the room again, searching for anything out of place.

Nothing and yet—

Everything felt wrong.

“What happened?” I asked, my voice quieter now as I moved closer.

She dragged a hand over her face, her breathing uneven. “I… I don’t know,” she said. “I was asleep, and then—”

Her voice broke slightly.

I stopped in front of her.

“And then?”

She hesitated, her eyes dropping to her hands like she was trying to piece it together. “I saw him,” she whispered.

My chest tightened further.

“Your father,” I said.

She nodded slowly.

“It didn’t feel like a dream,” she continued, her voice unsteady. “It felt real. Too real. And he… he wasn’t right.”

I didn’t interrupt.

I let her speak.

“He wouldn’t look at me at first,” she said, her fingers curling slightly into the fabric of her sleeve. “And when he did… it was like he wasn’t really there. Like something was missing.”

Her voice trembled again.

“He told me I didn’t run far enough,” she added, her gaze lifting to mine now. “That they were coming.”

My jaw tightened.

“They’re always coming,” I said quietly.

“No,” she shook her head quickly. “Not like that. It felt… closer. Like he could hear them. Like they were already there.”

Silence settled between us.

But it wasn’t empty.

Because I felt it too.

That lingering pressure in the air.

That subtle shift that shouldn’t have been there.

“What else?” I asked.

She swallowed hard. “He said my life… the one I had… it wasn’t real. That it was borrowed.”

The word lingered and borrowed.

My mind moved quickly, connecting pieces, things I hadn’t fully considered before, things that were starting to make more sense than I wanted them to.

“And then?” I pressed.

Her voice dropped, barely above a whisper. “He told me to run again.”

I exhaled slowly, my gaze shifting briefly to the markings on the wall as they flickered faintly again.

This wasn’t just a dream.

It couldn’t be.

“Kael…” she said softly.

I looked back at her.

“There was something else,” she added, her voice tighter now. “I heard something. Before I woke up.”

“What kind of sound?”

She hesitated.

Then—“Breathing.”

The word settled heavily.

My body stilled.

“Not mine,” she added quickly, her eyes widening slightly. “Not anyone’s. It sounded… wrong. Like it wasn’t supposed to be alive.”

The room seemed to tighten around us.

I turned slightly, my senses sharpening as I listened.

At first—Nothing.

Then—There.

Faint.

So faint it could have been nothing more than imagination.

A slow…Uneven…Inhale.

My entire body went still.

Lyra saw the shift immediately. “You hear it too, don’t you?” she whispered.

I didn’t answer.I didn’t need to.Because I did.

And it wasn’t coming from the door.

Or the walls Or anywhere outside.

It was coming from inside the room.

My gaze moved slowly, deliberately, scanning every inch of the space until it landed on the far corner, where the shadows gathered thicker than they should have.

The markings along that section of the wall flickered harder now, reacting, resisting something unseen.

The sound came again. Closer. A slow, dragging breath.

Lyra’s fingers tightened around the edge of the bed. “Kael…”

“Stay where you are,” I said quietly.

I stepped forward.

One step. Then another.

The air grew colder with each movement, the pressure increasing, like something was pushing back, warning me to stop.

I didn’t.

The shadows shifted.

Not much.

But enough.

Enough to confirm it.

Something was there.

Something that hadn’t been there before.

The breathing stopped.

Silence.

Then...

A whisper, low, broken and unfamiliar.

“Found you.”

Lyra gasped sharply behind me.

My entire body tensed.

Because that voice—It didn’t belong to anyone in this world and whatever had just found her…

Hadn’t come alone.