"Will they come for her again?" Lyra asked quietly, her voice laced with unease.
Casian turned toward her, his eyes scanning the tight set of her shoulders, the nervous twist of her fingers at the hem of her sleeve. Something was eating at her—he could feel it. But her thoughts, as always, were veiled behind the magic of her pendant.
"No," he said after a pause, calm but resolute. "They won't. We've found a way to communicate with them instead."
Lyra's brows furrowed, doubt flickering in her eyes. "Communicate? With rogues?" she echoed. "Is that even safe? I thought they were… unpredictable. Dangerous."
Casian nodded slowly, acknowledging the weight behind her concern.
"They are dangerous," he admitted. "But only when they choose to be."
She tilted her head slightly, clearly puzzled. "What does that mean?"
His voice lowered as he stepped closer, gaze darkening with memory.
