Chapter 35 Again

Chapter 35 Again
Lyra

I thought being admitted into the academy would make things clearer, but instead it felt like I had just been placed inside a glass cage where everyone could watch me slowly fall apart.

No one said it out loud, but I could feel it in the way they looked at me, like I wasn’t supposed to exist here, like I was a mistake the academy hadn’t decided how to erase yet. The hallways were quieter when I walked through them, not because people weren’t there, but because conversations died the moment I passed, replaced by silence that followed me like a shadow I couldn’t outrun.

I didn’t belong here, and the worst part was that I didn’t know where I belonged anymore.

My room was small, colder than it should have been, and too empty to feel safe, but at least it was mine for now, even if it felt more like a waiting space than a place to rest. I stood by the window longer than necessary, staring out at the unfamiliar structures, the distant training grounds, the movements of people who seemed to know exactly who they were and where they stood.

I used to know that.

I used to wake up with a routine, with something predictable, something normal, even if it wasn’t perfect, even if life had already started feeling like something fragile I couldn’t hold onto.

Now everything was different.

Now I didn’t even trust my own body.

I pressed my hand against the glass, my reflection staring back at me, but it didn’t feel like me anymore, not completely, not after everything that had happened, not after what I had felt when Kael touched me, when something inside me responded like it had been waiting for him.

That thought alone made my chest tighten.

I didn’t understand it, and I hated that I didn’t understand it, because not knowing meant I had no control, and I was tired of being dragged into things I couldn’t fight.

A knock came at the door, sharp and unexpected, pulling me out of my thoughts so quickly it almost hurt.

I didn’t answer immediately.

I wasn’t expecting anyone, and that alone made my guard rise.

The knock came again, harder this time, more impatient, like whoever was outside didn’t care whether I was ready or not.

“I know you’re in there,” a voice said, low and edged with something that made my stomach twist.

I hesitated for one second too long, then walked toward the door and opened it.

Ronan stood there.

Of course it was him.

His presence filled the doorway like he owned the space, his expression unreadable but his eyes sharp, cold, and entirely focused on me.

“What do you want?” I asked, keeping my voice steady even though everything in me tightened instinctively.

He didn’t answer immediately.

Instead, he stepped inside without waiting for permission, his gaze moving across the room like he was assessing it, then settling back on me.

“I wanted to see what made you worth all this trouble,” he said finally.

“I’m not worth anything to you,” I replied, crossing my arms slightly, not to challenge him, but to hold myself together.

A faint smirk touched his lips, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “That’s where you’re wrong.”

Something about the way he said it made my skin crawl.

“Kael thinks you’re important,” he continued, stepping closer, slow and deliberate, like he was testing how much space I would give him. “And that makes you interesting.”

I didn’t move back.

Not because I wasn’t afraid because I refused to show it.

“I’m not part of whatever this is between you and your brothers,” I said, my voice quieter now but still firm.

“You already are,” he replied.

The certainty in his tone hit harder than anything else.

I shook my head slightly. “I didn’t ask for this.”

“No one ever does,” he said, stopping just a step too close for comfort.

For a moment, neither of us spoke.

Then his gaze dropped briefly to my wrist, like he was remembering something, calculating something.

“Let me see it,” he said.

My chest tightened instantly. “See what?”

“Don’t play stupid,” he replied, his tone losing whatever patience it had left. “Your blood did something down there. I want to know what.”

“No,” I said immediately.

The word came out stronger than I expected, and for a second, I thought that would be enough.

It wasn’t.

His expression shifted, not dramatically, but enough to tell me I had just crossed a line he didn’t like.

“You don’t get to refuse me,” he said quietly.

“I just did.”

That was a mistake.

I realized it too late.

He moved faster than I could react, his hand grabbing my wrist, his grip tight enough to hurt, pulling me closer before I could pull away.

“Let go of me,” I snapped, trying to twist free, but his strength was overwhelming.

“Relax,” he murmured, his voice low and almost mocking. “I’m not going to kill you.”

“That doesn’t make this better!”

I struggled harder, but it only made his grip tighten, pain shooting up my arm as I tried to pull away.

“Stop fighting,” he said, his tone sharpening. “You’re making this harder than it needs to be.”

“I said let go!”

The words came out louder this time, breaking through the control I had been trying to hold onto, and something inside me reacted instantly.

Not fear.

Not panic.

Something else.

Heat spread through my arm where he held me, fast and sudden, like something beneath my skin had just been triggered, responding to the pressure, the threat, the anger.

Ronan felt it too.

I saw it in the way his grip faltered for just a second, his eyes narrowing as he looked down at my wrist, where his fingers were still wrapped around me.

“What is that?” he asked, not curious, not cautious, but interested.

“I don’t know,” I said, my voice shaking now, not from fear, but from the intensity of what I was feeling.

The heat spread further, climbing up my arm, pulsing through my veins, stronger than before, sharper, more controlled, like it was learning from every moment it existed.

“Good,” he said softly.

That word—

That tone—

It wasn’t right. Something snapped.

I didn’t think.

I reacted.

The energy surged outward from my arm, not like an explosion, not like something wild and uncontrolled, but like a force pushing back exactly where it was needed.

Ronan was thrown backward.

Not far but enough.

Enough for him to release me.

Enough for me to stumble back, my breathing uneven, my heart racing as I stared at him, my hand still burning with something I didn’t understand.

The room fell into silence.

He didn’t look angry.

He looked impressed.

“Well,” he said slowly, straightening slightly, his eyes locked onto me in a way that made my stomach drop. “That changes things.”

I didn’t respond.

I couldn’t.

Because for the first time since this started, I wasn’t just afraid of them.

I was afraid of myself.

And the worst part was not the power, not the reaction, not the way it
had come so easily.

It was the feeling that followed.

Not relief. Not regret.

Something darker. Something that whispered, quietly and dangerously—

That I could do it again.