She draws a dagger — the same one that first bound them.
She turns to Sera.
“We cut the bond at the source. Both of us. You become mortal. I give back the years you loaned me.”
Then Lyra kisses him. Pulls away. Smiles.
“And if I don’t? You’ll die in my place the next time I’m stabbed, poisoned, or drowned. You said so yourself — your immortality is now mine . Every wound I take goes to you.”