"I am a person ," Kaia snapped, but her voice wavered.
That night, alone in Lyra's guest room, Kaia did something she never would have done as a man. She looked in the mirror—a normal one this time—and posed . She ran a hand down her new hip. She pouted. A tear slid down her cheek, not of sadness, but of confused arousal.
"You're the transformation piece?" he asked, circling her. "I am a person ," Kaia snapped, but her voice wavered
Lyra, now free of the shard's obsession, helps him up. "Still want to go back to footnotes?"
In the broken shards of Almerias's mirror, a thousand different perspectives glint. She ran a hand down her new hip
His center of gravity plummeted. His clothes, a tweed vest and slacks, suddenly felt like a circus tent. The ceiling seemed higher. Lyra, who had been lounging, now towered over him.
But something is wrong. He looks at his hands—his male hands—and feels a pang of loss. The weightlessness. The silk. The way the world looked at her . "You're the transformation piece
When it fades, Kaelen is back. Tweed vest, stubble, broad shoulders. He's kneeling on Lyra's floor, gasping.