The Warrior’s Broken Mate novel Chapter 119

**LYRA’S POV**

The mornings began early, though “morning” had little meaning where we were. Light filtered in through the canopy in shades of gold and orange, but it never truly signaled the start of a day or the end of one. Time felt different here, slippery, like water slipping through your fingers. I hated it.

Every day, we trained, until our bodies ached and our magic hummed in our veins like live wires. I had never been patient, but patience was the only thing keeping me alive long enough to see my baby again. I missed him more than I thought possible. Just thinking of his small hands curling around mine made my chest ache. Every time I closed my eyes, I imagined him toddling across the living room, a stumble turning into a giggle, and my heart twisted with guilt. I couldn’t lose any more time–not with the time difference here. I didn’t even know how big he’d gotten already.

“Focus, Lyra.” Elias‘ voice cut through my thoughts, sharp and precise. He was moving around me like a storm contained, his control over his power so much smoother than mine. I was still flaring and sputtering, bursts of energy shooting from my fingertips at the wrong moments, singeing the edges of the training ground.

I clenched my jaw and drew a deep breath. I could do this. I had to–for my baby.

We spent hours running through exercises, starting with basics and moving to complex combinations of force and control. Elias’s patience never faltered, though I could see the strain in his eyes when I lost focus and nearly sent a bolt of fire through the training walls.

“You’re letting your anger drive you.” He said finally, stepping back to let the energy in the air settle. Sparks fizzled and fell like tiny stars, and I felt the familiar surge of frustration rise.

“I’m not angry.” I said, though my voice cracked. “I’m… I’m just–I need to get back. I need to be with him.” The words slipped out before I could stop them, raw and unguarded.

Elias’s expression softened, just slightly. “I know.” He said. “I feel it too, in my own way. But if we rush, we die before we even reach him. Control comes first. Every burst of magic must have purpose. You’ll get there, baby. You will.”

“How are you doing so well?” I asked, curiously.

“Honestly, I only think it’s because I’m the one who’s going to get us through this, and it is coming easily to me.” He said.

I gritted my teeth and we continued, again and again. Hours bled into one another. Sweat ran down my back, my muscles burned, yet we kept pushing. I learned to let the energy flow, to bend it without letting it consume me, to channel it like water through a narrow channel instead of a flood over cliffs. The sparks that had once threatened to tear me apart now danced around my hands obediently, and I felt a thrill of triumph I hadn’t felt in weeks.

Finally, when we collapsed onto the moss–strewn ground, our bodies trembling and our lungs screaming, Elias nodded. “Enough for today.”

I closed my eyes, feeling the lingering buzz of magic in my veins. My body ached in every joint, but beneath it all, I felt a spark of hope. We were ready. Or at least… we were close.

“We can’t wait any longer.” I said finally, voice hoarse. “We have to go after him. The Sorcerer -he won’t wait for us to be perfect, and neither can we. Every day I stay here, I’m losing more time with my son.”

Elias was quiet for a long moment. Then he said, “I’ve felt it too. The pull. We can’t ignore it anymore. But we have to be smart. The Sorcerer will have traps. He’ll expect us.”

“I don’t care.” I said, a flash of defiance sparking inside me. “I care about getting back to Grayson.”

He studied me, his eyes narrowing, and then finally, with a reluctant nod, he said, “Alright. We leave at first light.”

I hardly slept that night. Every time I closed my eyes, I imagined his little face, bright with curiosity, oblivious to the danger ahead. I pressed my hand against my belly, feeling the memory of his tiny heartbeat, a rhythm I would carry into battle.

“I told you it would be a trap.” Elias muttered, gritting his teeth as he readied his magic. “We should have been more careful.”

I felt a wave of panic, but I pushed it down. Not yet. Not now. We had made it this far. We could fight. We would fight. And then, after this, I would get back to my son.

The walls were lined with runes that glowed with a malevolent light. I could feel the energy pressing against me, testing, probing. I tightened my fists, letting the magic coil in response.

The Sorcerer’s laughter grew louder, filling the chamber, wrapping around us like a suffocating blanket. “Ah,” his voice slithered through the air, “you finally came. How… persistent.”

I stood taller, letting the magic flow through me, my fear hardening into determination. “We’re not afraid of you.” I said, though my voice shook slightly. “Not anymore.”

Elias’s energy flared beside me, a shield and a weapon all at once. “Stay sharp.” He warned. This is exactly what he wants–us thinking we’re ready.”

I nodded, letting the power inside me burn brighter. Every step, every spark of magic, had led to this moment. And no matter the trap, no matter the danger, I would fight. I had a life to reclaim.

And as the walls began to shift again, and the Sorcerer’s power washed over us like a storm, I braced myself. Whatever came next, we were ready–or at least, as ready as anyone could ever be.

We were walking straight into the heart of his trap.