Halle’s eyes were wide, her breath catching audibly. Lyra felt her stomach twist as the other woman’s gaze locked on Donovan, bright with something almost desperate.
“Mate,” Halle whispered again, like she couldn’t believe it.
Lyra glanced at Donovan. He was staring right back at Halle, his hands gripping the bench so tightly his knuckles were white. His mouth opened, but no sound came out. His entire body was rigid, locked in place.
“Halle, wait…” Lyra started, stepping forward, but Halle was already crossing the training hall in quick strides.
She stopped right in front of Donovan, her hands hovering as if she might touch him, then falling back. Her eyes searched his face, shining, almost hungry.
“You’re my mate,” she breathed, a smile breaking across her features.
Donovan blinked
