MasukLyra’s POV
“I told you to call him. Now!”
My voice ricochets off the hospital room walls—cracked, hoarse, packed with pressure. The nurses stand rigid where they are, faces taut—not a single one steps closer.
“Lady Lyra, please calm down—”
“Calm down?” I let out a short, nearly hysterical laugh. “You want me calm while I’m locked in here like a broken thing?”
With a sharp sweep of my arm, I knock over the small table beside the bed. The glass of water falls and shatters, shards scattering across the floor. One nurse jerks back in shock. Another lowers her head, fingers trembling as they clutch her clipboard.
“Get out!” I scream. “You’re all useless!”
No one answers. They only exchange looks—the look of people who know one wrong move could make everything worse.
“He didn’t come,” I
Cassandra’s POVNightFang felt calm that morning.Not the kind of calm that was empty, but a living calm—measured footsteps from the servants, the warm scent of bread drifting from the kitchen, and Iris’s small laughter carrying from the reading room. I stood at the doorway, watching her from a distance. Iris sat cross-legged on the carpet, a book open on her lap, occasionally murmuring the new words she had just learned.She looked… safe.The contrast struck me without mercy.In SilverFang—chaos.Here—peace.“Aunt Cass,” Iris called without looking up. “How do you read this word?”I walked closer. “Slowly. Don’t rush.”She nodded and returned to her focus. A few seconds passed before she spoke again—this time with a different tone.“Why hasn’t Dad called again?”The question came out of now
Alaric’s POVI didn’t wait long after the door to my study closed.“Start with Cyan,” I told Russel. “I want to know everything he’s said, to whom, and how it’s affected the Pack.”Russel nodded, his expression grave. “I’ll trace every line. Even the small conversations that seem insignificant.”“Nothing is insignificant,” I replied. “Not anymore.”Two hours later, Alan and Cassian came back to see me—this time without explosive anger, but with a quiet, pressing tone. Far more dangerous.“You’re being too cold,” Alan said. “The Pack is reading your attitude.”Cassian leaned back in the chair across my desk. “Lyra is pregnant. Whatever your doubts, that pregnancy is real in the eyes of the Pack.”“What do you want from me?” I asked flatly.“Attention,&
Alaric’s POVI leave the hospital without looking back.The night air of SilverFang is cold, biting—but not enough to quiet the chaos in my head. City lights line the streets like silent witnesses, far too bright for what should have been a quiet night. I get into the car, give a brief signal to the guards, and close my eyes for a moment before the engine starts.I don’t feel guilty.What I feel is exhaustion—dense and heavy—and anger, neatly contained.SilverFang Manor greets me with a deceptive stillness. The moment I step into my study, Russel is already there. Files are spread across the desk. His expression is tense, like a man who knows the next piece of news won’t sit well with anyone.“Lyra’s condition is stable,” he begins. “The healers confirmed there are no further complications tonight.”“Good,” I reply curtly, pulling off my coa
Lyra’s POV“I told you to call him. Now!”My voice ricochets off the hospital room walls—cracked, hoarse, packed with pressure. The nurses stand rigid where they are, faces taut—not a single one steps closer.“Lady Lyra, please calm down—”“Calm down?” I let out a short, nearly hysterical laugh. “You want me calm while I’m locked in here like a broken thing?”With a sharp sweep of my arm, I knock over the small table beside the bed. The glass of water falls and shatters, shards scattering across the floor. One nurse jerks back in shock. Another lowers her head, fingers trembling as they clutch her clipboard.“Get out!” I scream. “You’re all useless!”No one answers. They only exchange looks—the look of people who know one wrong move could make everything worse.“He didn’t come,” I
Lyra’s POVNothing is going according to my plan.That’s the first thing I realize every time I open my eyes.The hospital ceiling feels too close, too white, as if it’s pressing down on me. The sharp scent of antiseptic burns my nose, stirring my stomach into another wave of nausea. I close my eyes, hoping the dizziness will fade—but instead, my chest tightens as the sickness surges back.“Lyra, breathe,” I whisper to myself.I clutch the bedsheet. My hands are cold. My body feels heavy—like it’s being held down by something unseen. Every breath is too shallow, as if my lungs have forgotten how to work properly.“He hasn’t come yet?” I ask, my voice hoarse.The two nurses beside my bed exchange a look.Not an ordinary one—but a brief, cautious glance loaded with restraint. One swallows hard, fingers tightening around her clipboard. The oth
Alaric’s POVThe decision is made without ceremony.There’s no second handshake, no empty promises. Once the discussion ends, I know exactly what I need to do—and Orion knows what he’ll do. That’s enough.I leave first.The afternoon air cuts into my lungs, clean and cold. Russel follows a step behind, his pace slightly faster than usual—a sign he’s waiting for orders.“Start from within,” I say. “Shut down any distribution connected to the potion. Audit every SilverFang healer.”“Even the old ones?” Russel asks.“Especially the old ones,” I reply. “Cut their lines one by one. Quietly.”Russel jots it down quickly. “Lyra?”I stop. “Full surveillance. No contact with Iris. No requests passed on without my approval.”“Vania will react.”“Let her,&rdqu







