Lyra didn't scream.
She didn't cry.
She stared at the photo from the rehearsal balcony until her vision blurred, then handed the phone to Aurelian like it weighed too much to keep holding.
"He was inside," she said quietly.
Aurelian was already calling his security team.
"Lock the building down," he ordered. "No one leaves. No one enters. Pull every camera feed from the last two hours."
His voice was calm.
Too calm.
Lyra recognized that tone now.
It meant he was furious.
---
The rehearsal hall suddenly felt smaller.
Air heavier.
Like the walls had been listening.
Mara stood near the door, pale. "This is insane. He walked into a private facility."
"He wanted us to know he could," Aurelian replied.
Lyra crossed her arms tightly. "He stood there. Watching me sing."
The violation of it made her skin crawl.
Not because he had seen her.
But because he had enjoyed the fact that she didn't know.
---
Security footage came in quickly.
Grainy black-and-white screens.
Empty hallways.
A staircase.
And then—
A man in a gray coat, cap pulled low, walking calmly through the upper balcony like he belonged there.
No rush.
No hiding.
He even paused at one point, leaning slightly on the railing.
Watching.
Lyra turned away.
"I don't want to see that," she whispered.
Aurelian kept watching.
Because he needed to.
Because Elias had just crossed a line that changed the rules.
---
"He's not testing us anymore," Lyra said.
"No," Aurelian replied. "He's escalating proximity."
She looked at him. "Say it in normal words."
"He's getting closer on purpose."
"Why?"
Aurelian's eyes didn't leave the screen. "Because he wants you to feel him before you ever see him."
A chill ran through her.
---
They left the building under tight security.
This time, Lyra didn't argue.
She felt exposed in a way she couldn't push through with defiance.
In the car, she stared out the window silently.
"Aurelian," she said after a long time.
"Yes."
"I don't think he wants to hurt me."
Aurelian glanced at her. "No."
"I think he wants me to understand him."
That unsettled him more than if she had said the opposite.
---
Her phone buzzed again.
A message.
You felt me today, didn't you?
Lyra closed her eyes briefly.
She typed back before she could overthink it.
I felt how pathetic you are.
Aurelian looked at her sharply. "Don't provoke him."
"I'm not," she said. "I'm refusing to be impressed."
Seconds passed.
Then a reply.
Good. I was worried you'd be afraid. Fear is boring.
Lyra exhaled slowly. "He keeps saying that word."
"Boring," Aurelian said.
"Yes."
"He needs stimulation," Aurelian replied. "This is entertainment to him."
Lyra's jaw tightened. "Then let's stop being entertaining."
---
That night, Lyra didn't want to be alone again.
But this time, she didn't pretend otherwise.
She sat on the edge of the bed while Aurelian stood near the window like the night before.
"You don't have to stay awake," she said quietly.
"I know."
"You're going to anyway."
"Yes."
She watched him for a moment.
"You know what scares me the most?"
"What?"
"That he understands you."
Aurelian didn't respond.
Because she was right.
Elias knew how he thought.
How he reacted.
How he protected.
Which meant Elias knew exactly how to keep pushing.
---
Lyra lay down but didn't sleep.
She listened to the faint city sounds outside.
Then to Aurelian's steady breathing across the room.
Then to her own thoughts.
"I don't want to be the reason he gets to you," she said softly into the dark.
Aurelian's voice came back just as quiet.
"You're not."
"But I am."
"No," he said. "You're the reason he thinks he can."
That difference mattered.
Even if she didn't fully understand why.
---
At 3:07 a.m., her phone lit up again.
A single message.
You trust him more than you should.
Lyra stared at the words.
Then slowly looked up at Aurelian.
He was still watching the window.
Unmoving.
Protective.
Present.
She typed a reply.
I trust him exactly as much as I choose to.
This time, Elias didn't reply.
And somehow—
That silence felt like the loudest thing yet.