Lyra's POV
She fucking knew.
I bolted up the stairs, taking them two at a time until I reached the office that had become my second home. I didn't waste time with politeness or knocking. The door slammed against the wall with a satisfying crash before I whipped it shut behind me.
Alaric looked up from his paperwork, startled by my dramatic entrance. His dark eyes immediately swept over my appearance, taking in what remained of my training clothes.
"Lyra? What happened to you?" His gaze lingered on the shredded fabric hanging from my frame. "Did you get attacked by a wild animal?"
"Call her," I demanded, my voice sharp as broken glass. "Call my mother right now."
Alaric's eyebrows lifted, but he reached for the phone on his mahogany desk without argument. His movements were deliberate, measured, as if he sensed the volatile energy radiating from every pore of my being.
He lifted the receiver to his ear without dialing a single number.
