Run With The Devil

A Shift in Focus

Deon's pov

I watched as Lyra disappeared into the mansion, her silhouette swallowed by the shadows of the grand entryway. The door closed behind her with a soft thud, leaving me standing in the stillness of the garden. Normally, after a night like this, I'd retreat to my office-pour myself a drink, maybe go over a few plans. But something about tonight felt different.

Seeing Lyra out here earlier, pushing her limits as she ran, reminded me of something I hadn't thought about in a long time. The feeling of running, not just to move, but to escape. The way she ran tonight-it wasn't just about her speed or her abilities. She was trying to outrun her past, her pain. I recognized it, even if she didn't.

I made my way over to the pool, staring down at the water. My reflection rippled slightly, distorted by the faint breeze. I leaned over, running a hand through my hair, trying to shake off the thoughts crowding my mind.

Alessandra's outburst at lunch had been a tipping point for Lyra. I knew it the moment I saw the red wine splash across her. Alessandra hadn't stopped there. She'd shattered a plate against Lyra's face-cruelty disguised as carelessness. The sight of Lyra's cheek, blood trickling from the wound, still burned in my mind. And yet, despite the humiliation, Lyra had held her head high, her voice steady as she excused herself from the table.

But I knew. I knew it had hurt her more than she let on.

Alessandra had pushed too far. I could barely contain my rage when it happened. I wanted to grab her right then and there, but for the sake of the alliance, I held back.

Still, I wasn't done with her.

I straightened, clenching my fists as memories of earlier flooded my mind. When I confronted her at her father's mansion, I'd come close to ending her right there. I should have left her under the water longer. But for Mr. Vico's sake-for the delicate balance we had to maintain between our families-I let her live. Barely.

But next time, she wouldn't be so lucky.

I turned my gaze to the mansion, thinking about Lyra again. She wasn't like anyone I had ever dealt with. She was tough, yes, but vulnerable in a way I didn't fully understand. And that unsettled me. I couldn't protect her from everything, especially not from the scars of her past. But I could make sure no one under my roof would ever treat her like Alessandra had.

I sighed, running a hand across my jaw. Alessandra and her childish antics were nothing compared to the storm brewing inside Lyra. She didn't need wine thrown at her or plates broken over her. She was fighting a much bigger battle every single day.

Harper had come to me, frantic, after Lyra locked herself in her room again. No one could get through to her-not Harper, not Angelo. I'd tried, standing outside her door, offering calm words, even demands, but all I got was a quiet, firm "no" from the other side. She was shutting us all out.

And I hated that.

Lyra wasn't just some lab experiment we saved. She was a person, someone who needed more than protection-she needed trust.

But earning hers was proving to be harder than I thought.

I exhaled sharply, running a hand through my hair again. Tomorrow, I'd figure out a way to break through that wall she kept building. Because if there was one thing I knew for sure, it was that I couldn't let her stay locked away, haunted by memories, isolated and vulnerable.

I'd pulled her from one prison. I couldn't let her build another one here.

With one last glance at the house, I turned and made my way inside.

Lyras pov

I woke up with a start, my heart pounding in my chest, the remnants of restless dreams still clinging to me. It was early-too early, but I couldn't go back to sleep. The room felt too small, too quiet. I could feel that familiar tension bubbling inside me, the need to move, to run.

The first thing I did was jump into the shower, letting the cold water hit my skin, hoping it would snap me out of the haze I'd been in for days. As the water dripped down, I stared at the tiled wall, the events of the past few days flashing in my mind-Alessandra, the humiliation at the table, Deon dragging me out into the garden and telling me to run.

I needed to shake it off. I needed to get out of my head.

Turning off the water, I dried off quickly and then sped into my room, a blur of motion as I rampaged through my wardrobe. I yanked out a short skirt and a crop top, something light and easy to move in. I pulled on some sneakers and socks, not even bothering to stop for a second as I brushed through my hair.

The moment I was dressed, I felt the familiar itch in my legs. The urge to run-to escape.

Before I could even think about it, I was out of my bedroom, moving so fast the world around me blurred. The walls of the mansion faded into nothing as I zipped past, down the stairs, and out into the garden.

The cool morning air hit my face, refreshing and sharp, as I reached the garden. Without a second thought, I took off, running across the grass, faster and faster, my body falling into that familiar rhythm. The grass bent beneath me, the trees becoming streaks of green as I circled the garden. My legs burned with the exertion, but it was a good burn-one that made me feel alive.

I pushed harder, the wind rushing past me, the world moving in slow motion. I could hear my heart thudding in my chest, but it wasn't painful like it used to be. There was no more exhaustion, no more pain from the serums. Just me, my speed, and the freedom of the open air.

Running was the only thing that made sense anymore. The only thing that felt like control in a world that was anything but.

As I ran, I glanced over at the pool and the bench where Deon had sat the other night, watching me. His voice echoed in my head, "Escape from your feelings, your thoughts, since it helps."

I pushed harder, my legs moving faster, my mind clearing with every step.