Lyra
Fear made my heart pound hard as I ran straight at the rogue and the child, sword ready in my hand. Every step brought fresh panic that the rogue might hurt him, that I’d arrive too late, that I could fail completely.
My thoughts were a mess of terrible what-ifs, and I was gasping for air. I could feel my pulse hammering inside my chest while my fingers squeezed the sword hilt even tighter.
When I got near enough, the rogue lifted his head and our eyes met. We locked gazes for a heartbeat, nothing but the child’s quiet whimpers filling the air.
I stopped cold, one foot still off the ground. I was scared to move closer, scared any sudden motion would push the rogue to strike the child.
Then something broke loose inside me. I remembered exactly why I was out here fighting and riski
