Chapter 17

Lyra's POV

“You're late,” I said boastfully, “one might say you're slow.”

He was silent and zoomed past me into the pig sty.

I followed and picked up the protective farmer gear I found laying around.

The leather jacket I was putting on, courtesy of the Darkmoon couture, might have cost me nothing but I wasn't going to let anything from that pigsty get on me.

I had found an apron along with some knee-high boots and put them all on before we got to the pigs.

Lucas must have observed the change in my steps and turned to me.

After a good look at me, he finally spoke up.

“You're not going to need that unless you intend to clean up the mess after now,” he said looking from the shovel I held in my hands to my face.

He was entirely different here, while we were alone. I was melting, slowly, but I was not letting myself get carried away from my promise.

“Why?” I asked, examining the shovel that I held in my hand closely.

I prayed he wasn't thinking of me cleaning the sty with my bare hands.