Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Lyra’s POV

The night was quiet, too quiet, and it didn't sit right with me. The silence echoed no matter what I tried, and it was the kind of silence that made you think the world had paused, or you were somehow stuck in one moment forever.

I sat by the window, with my knees pulled up to my chest, and the hem of my nightgown pooling beneath me like spilled moonlight. The wind whispered against the glass, but it wasn’t cold enough to make me move. I hadn’t moved in hours, and I would be lying to myself if I said I felt tired. If anything, I felt all the more rejuvenated, and there was only one thing responsible for that.

The letter was still clutched in my hands.

I had read it again, and again, and again, until the ink began to blur in my mind. Calle crazy or whatever, but I could hear his voice reading it to me like a lullaby. Each word spelled out danger and want, and I hated how easily he got under my skin, how one letter was enough to crumble every wall I thought I had rebuilt.

One would think that with how restless the letter was making me, I would have tossed it aside the moment I read its content, but I

I hadn’t thrown it away.

No. It was cradled in my lap like something sacred. Or maybe like something cursed. I hadn’t decided yet.

The invitation was clear, even if I tried to pretend it wasn't.

Come to Blackwater. He'd said. One night. No chains. No tricks. Just truth, and perhaps a negotiation.

He wanted to negotiate with me, with me, so if I did decide to go, it would simply mean I was doing that for the betterment of the entire pack, right?

I didn't answer. I didn't need to. Deep down, my wolf and I knew exactly what the answer to that question was, and I wasn't sure either of us was ready for that.

I closed my eyes, only for his memory to play out behind my lids. His voice. The feel of his hand beneath my chin. The way he’d said “darling” like it was a sin he was begging me to commit again.

I didn’t hear the door open. I didn’t even sense movement, not until a quiet voice broke through the quiet.

“Ma’am.” My eyes flew open at Ophelia’s words. She had a small smile on her face and she looked sad. Worried, but sad. “you didn't ask for your dinner tonight. Is everything okay?”

“Yes,Ophelia.” I didn't bother smiling, she wouldn't hesitate to tell me it wasn't real the moment she caught whiff of my fake smile. “I'm fine..I'm just not hungry.”

She stood near the doorway, which was weird because she usually would just walk right into my room. It was as if she was on strict orders to be nowhere near me, or she was afraid of something to do with me.

“You haven’t slept,” she said, stepping inside. “It’s past midnight.”

“I know.”

“Xander’s still pacing around the war room.”

Ophelia moved closer, slow and deliberate, like one wrong step might send me into a spiral she couldn’t pull me out of. “I think he’s trying to draw blood from a stone. Or a plan from an empty scroll.”

I huffed a weak laugh, but it died on my lips almost immediately.

“I heard about the letters. It's all everyone has been talking about all day.” She stood beside me now, her gaze flickering down to the letter before meeting my eyes again. “You’ve already made up your mind, haven’t you?”

I froze. Not at just her words, but at how right she was.

“You didn’t answer out loud, but I see it. In your hands.” She smiled softly. “In your face. You’re not trying to forget him, Lyra. You’re waiting for a reason not to go.”

“It’s not that simple.” My throat tightened. “And even so, is that a bad idea?”

“It never is.” She sat down beside me, her voice gentler now. “But sneaking out in the dead of night with a rogue king’s invitation in your hand? That’s a choice. Not a spell.”

“I wasn’t going to go tonight.”

“But you were thinking about it.”Her brow lifted. “Eventually.”

“He said it’d just be, truth. One night. No tricks.” I looked away, shame crawling down my spine like sweat. It made it even more worse that I was mos reading the letter word for word without even realizing it. “And we could negotiate too.”

“And you believe him?” I hesitated at her question.

“I don’t know what I believe anymore.”

“You don’t have to lie to me. Not about him. Not about anything.” Ophelia reached out and placed her hand over mine. Her palm was warm, steady, and grounding. “I might be just a maid, but sometimes I like to see you as a friend and vice versa. I'm just doing what a good friend would do.”

“I’m not lying,” I said quietly. “I’m just, not ready to tell the truth.”

A beat passed, then another, and just when I heard the shift in the silence, I felt something shift between us.

“I can cover for you,” she said at last, her voice was soft as cotton . “If you decide to go. I won’t ask questions, but promise me you’ll come back.”

“I haven’t even said I’m going.” I rolled my eyes. ‘yet”

“You will,” she whispered. “Because you want answers. And because no matter how much you try to fight it, a part of you doesn’t fear him, you still crave him.”

“That’s what scares me the most.” I let out a shaky breatth.

. “Then be scared. But don’t lie to yourself.”

Ophelia stood and brushed invisible lint from her robe .” Not now. Not with what’s coming.”

“What is coming?”

“Whatever Xavier has planned” She looked over her shoulder at me. “it’s only just beginning.”

When she left, I was alone again. The silence returned, but this time, it carried something heavier than stillness. It carried a choice, one I wasn't sure I wanted to make yet

I gently tucked the letter beneath the folds of my pillow, where it pulsed like a second heartbeat.

What was I going to do? Really go to Xavier, and if I did, what the hell would happen over there? Was I going to fall into his trap, or hold my leg on high.