#10: Nyra

Nyra

The weight vanished from my throat so abruptly that I sucked in air hard enough to burn. I sagged, barely catching myself against the wall as the steward was ripped away from me, his body hitting the opposite side of the room with a bone-shaking thud.

“What gave you the right?” Lucien growled, his voice dangerously low. The fury in his eyes was enough to make the steward still instantly.

Darius burst in a second later, sword half-drawn, eyes wide as he took in the scene. “Guards!” he barked toward the hallway.

Lucien lifted a hand without looking back. “No. Stand down.”

Darius hesitated, gaze flicking to me, then to the blood pooling on the floor beneath me. “Alpha–”

“I said stand down.” Lucien’s tone left no room for argument. Darius lowered his sword but didn’t sheathe it.

Lucien turned his attention to Torren, still pinned against the wall. “You will take him down to the cells. Quietly. I do not want a spectacle.”

Torren spat blood onto the stone. “She deserves death. You know it.”

Lucien leaned in, voice dropping to something colder than ice. “And you deserve far worse for disobeying a direct order. But I’m feeling generous today.”

I pressed a hand to my side, trying to slow the bleeding, watching the exchange through the haze of pain.

Lucien glanced over his shoulder at me. “Aria!” he shouted toward the open door. Footsteps hurried in the corridor, and the small maid appeared, eyes widening at the destruction and the blood.

The door opened again and Aria rushed in, eyes widening when she took in the scene. Blood. The broken furniture. Torren crumpled and groaning on the floor.

“Oh gods,” she breathed, already moving toward me. “Nyra.”

“I’m fine,” I said automatically.

Aria dropped to her knees beside me without hesitation, already pulling bandages and vials from the satchel she carried.

“This will hurt,” she warned softly.

I managed a weak grin. “Story of my life.”

She worked quickly, cleaning the shoulder wound first, then pressing a cloth to my side. I hissed through my teeth but didn’t pull away. Lucien watched for a moment, then turned back to Torren.

Darius stepped forward. “I’ll take him below.”

Lucien nodded once. Darius hauled Torren up by the arm and dragged him toward the door. The steward didn’t fight anymore, but his eyes burned hatred into me until he disappeared into the hall.

Aria finished binding the worst of the bleeding and helped me to the bed. “Luckily, the wounds aren’t too deep, I don’t think you need stitches. These should hold until your healing kicks in.”

He understood immediately. “Aria, leave us.”

The maid bowed her head and slipped out, closing the ruined door as best she could behind her. The room fell quiet except for the crackle of the dying fire and my ragged breathing.

“So,” I said as soon as we were alone. “That was fun.”

He didn’t smile.

Lucien crossed to me slowly, as if approaching something that might bite. He stopped at the edge of the bed, gaze moving over the bandages, the blood on my hands, the torn fabric of my shirt.

“You’re hurt,” he said, voice rough.

“Observant.” I tried for sarcasm, but it came out weaker than intended. “What happens to him now?”

Lucien exhaled through his nose. “He lives for now.”

I raised a brow. “That’s generous.”

“I will offer him the chance to talk in exchange for a lesser punishment. He tells me who let him into this wing, who supplied the poison he intended for your stew, and his family remains in the parklands. He stays silent, he loses everything.”

I laughed, short and bitter. “So mercy in exchange for betrayal. Very wolf-like.”

Lucien didn’t smile. “He lost his mate and pup in the war. Hybrid blood used on vampire arrows. He believes you carry the same poison in your veins.”

I looked away, staring at the cracked wall where Torren’s face had met stone. “I’m not responsible for what others did with blood like mine.”

“No,” Lucien said quietly. “But the pack remembers the screams. They remember pups dying in their mothers’ arms. They remember waking to find entire camps gone overnight because a single scratch turned fatal.”

I met his eyes again. “And you? What do you remember?”

He stopped with his back to me. For a long moment, he didn’t speak. When he finally did, his voice was rough.

“Hybrid blood killed my family.”

“I kind of figured that part out, what with the warm reception you gave me when I arrived.” I replied. “How?”

He turned back slowly, eyes dark. “I was six. My family was attacked and I watched it all happen. That's all you need to know.”

“I’m sorry,” I said quietly, reaching for him, but he shifted slightly, dodging my hand.

Something inside my chest cracked.

“That wasn’t us,” I said, too fast. “That wasn’t hybrids choosing to do that.”

“Hybrid blood doesn’t choose,” he snapped. “It just kills.”

“And so do wolves,” I shot back. “And vampires. And humans. You don’t get to pin the sins of a war on a child who wasn’t even born yet.”

Silence stretched between us, thick and heavy.

My hands trembled before I could stop them, so I clenched them into fists at my sides. “You think I don’t know what my blood has been used for? You think I don’t know what it cost? Hybrids weren’t weapons by choice, Lucien. We were harvested and drained.”

He said nothing, but his shoulders stiffened.

I laughed then, a sharp, humourless sound. “Let me tell you a story, Alpha.”

He looked at me, something wary flickering in his eyes.

“My mother ran for months with me in her arms, hunters from both sides on her trail,” I said. “Vampires hunting her for her blood, wolves hunting her so the vampires couldn’t get their hands in her. Apparently, nothing unites enemies faster than a shared hatred.”

I stared at the fire as I recalled the story I was told as a child. “She ran through the woods with me pressed to her chest so tightly I couldn’t cry even if I wanted to. Never stopping because she never knew when they were close enough to smell us.”

Lucien’s breathing slowed. I felt his attention like a weight.

“Finally, one night she stumbled into a clearing, half-dead, and found her old friend waiting. A witch. She begged her... made her swear on everything – not to protect a hybrid – to protect her baby. My mother kissed my forehead once, whispered my name, and turned back toward the trees knowing she wouldn’t make it out.”

I met Lucien’s gaze again. “She bought me a life with hers.”

I looked back down at my chained wrists. “The witch cloaked me in shadows to mask the hybrid scent, and raised me like her own. Taught me to control the darkness, to fight, to survive. When she died, the spell unravelled, the scent came back... and the running started again. Until your wolves caught me.”

The room felt impossibly small.

Lucien swallowed.

“We’re both victims,” he said quietly.

The admission surprised us both.

I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding. “Congratulations. You’ve just described half the world.”

A corner of his mouth twitched despite himself.

The tension shifted then, not gone but altered, softer in places that had been razor sharp before. We stood too close. Close enough that I could see the faint scar along his collarbone, close enough that the heat between us had nothing to do with the fire.

“Why are you still here?” he asked suddenly.

My brow furrowed.

“I'm not stupid,” he continued. “I know it isn’t these chains keeping you here. Why haven’t you run?”

I gave a crooked smile. “And leave you without anyone to annoy the hell out of you every day? Tragic. Who’d keep you on your toes?”

A low huff escaped him before he could stop it. “You’re impossible.”

“So I’ve been told.”

His hand lifted, hovering near my arm, not quite touching. The air between us felt charged, every breath a conscious decision. For a heartbeat, I thought he might actually close the distance. Thought I might let him.

Then the door slammed open.

“Draven! I swear to the gods–” Lucien barked, spinning toward the intrusion.

The guard stood in the doorway, eyes wide, taking in the scene: Lucien half-turned, me close enough to be in his shadow, the air still crackling. The guard’s gaze flicked between us, something unreadable passing over his face before bowing deeply.

“Apologies, Alpha. I knocked,” he said quickly.

“You didn’t,” Lucien snapped.

Draven’s gaze flicked to me again, lingering just a second too long. “Darius sent me. He’s fetched Tatia as you ordered.”

Lucien’s snarl faded into a growl. “Tell her I’ll be down shortly.”

“She’s… already on her way up,” Draven said. “Said she couldn’t wait to see – and I quote ‘the alpha who always seems to leave her panties soaked’.”

“Of course she did.” Lucien pinched the bridge of his nose. “Bring her in.”

Draven bowed and retreated, pulling the door closed.

I folded my arms, pretending indifference. “Tatia?”

“You don’t know her,” he said.

“Sounds charming.”

The door opened again moments later, and Tatia swept in like she owned the place. Tall, willowy, with raven hair that fell in waves to her waist and eyes the colour of storm clouds. Her dress clung to every curve, deep crimson silk that whispered when she moved.

Her eyes flicked to Lucien immediately, lighting with amusement.

“Lucien, darling,” she purred, voice smooth as spilled wine. “You look tense. Shall I fix that?”

She crossed to him, her fingers trailing lightly down his arm. He didn’t stop her, but he didn’t lean into it either.

“You’re so tense,” she reprimanded, her fingers working to loosen his shoulder knots. “When last did you take time off for some... relaxation, Alpha"

“Not now,” Lucien said quickly, like he was avoiding a conversation.

Interesting.

She laughed and turned her attention to me, gaze sharp and assessing. “And this must be the hybrid causing all the delicious trouble.”

“Nyra,” I said. “Try it. It’s shorter.”

Her smile widened. “Oh, I like her.”

I didn’t.

She moved closer to Lucien, fingers brushing his arm in a way that made something ugly twist in my chest before I could stop it.

Suddenly, Tatia’s expression sobered as she closed her eyes, murmuring under her breath.

“I sense dark omens, Alpha” she said softly. “Expect blood on the borders soon.”

Lucien stiffened. “Adrian.”

She nodded. “On a brighter note, the bond between you is ripe,” she said, opening her eyes and looking at me. “Ripe enough to break.”

My heart skipped. “Wait... what?”

“Yes,” she said. “The Alpha didn’t tell you why he summoned me?”

I looked at Lucien who was sudden making it his personal mission to look anywhere else but at me.

Tatia looking between us, letting out a sly smile as she continued, “The Alpha summoned me here to severe your mate bond.”