I wanted to spill his blood at her feet, and she feared for me.

Footsteps approached. Lyra took hold of my arm, leaving Tomas moaning on the staircase, and ran until we came to the upper corridors. She wrenched open an arched door tucked in an alcove and dragged us inside. It was a small sitting room with only enough room for a single chair, a narrow lancet window, a shelf of parchment and old books, and a bench against the other wall.

Lyra slammed the door at our backs and slumped against it.

There was little room, but I paced, anger and bloodlust hot in my veins.

“Roark.” Her breathless sob slowed my pace.

A tear fell onto her cheek. With hesitation, I reached out to wipe it away. She didn’t pull back, didn’t whimper under my touch.

Lyra took my palm and held it to her face, and whispered, “I don’t…I don’t know what came over me. I-I-I wanted to…” She studied her hands, still splotchy with Tomas’s blood.

I spoke with one hand against the warmth of her face. He deserves his crushed skull piked on the wall.

Lyra covered one of my hands with hers, leaving the other free to speak. Her chin quivered. “I’ve heard melders become monsters.”

I have seen my share of monsters, and you are not one.

Another tear, another swipe of my thumb.

“You wanted to kill him. You could lose everything for doing something like that. Don’t you dare think to risk your life for my stupidity.”

Your stupidity is endearing.

Lyra frowned.

I drifted closer. The swell of her breasts brushed against my chest. I tightened my body against hers, caging her to the wall, and moved my hands in sharp, angry gestures. He should never have put a hand on you.

“And you should not put yourself at risk.” Heat flooded the bridges of her cheeks. “Do you go around ending everyone who looks at Emi improperly? Or anyone who speaks poorly of Thane?”

I slammed a palm against the wall. Lyra stopped speaking, but looked at me with a touch of defiance.

“Do you?”

I tipped my head, drawing my nose along her cheek. She drew in a sharp breath. I mouthed the word no against her skin, shaking my head and watching the heat of the word lift gooseflesh over her neck and cheeks.

One of Lyra’s hands skirted up my waist, her fingers curling into my side, holding me closer. “Then why do it for me?”

I lifted one hand, making certain she would see. Thane and Emi have not infected my soul like you.

Lyra’s lips parted, as though she might respond, I did not give her the chance before I kissed her. Hard.

For a moment, she was stiff with surprise, but in the next breath Lyra dug her fingertips deeper into my waist, slamming my body to hers.