CHAPTER FOUR

LYRA'S POV

I made it to the servant's stairwell before the sobs came.

They hit me like a wave, violent and wrenching, tearing out of my chest in gasps that echoed off the stone walls. I collapsed on the steps, arms wrapped around myself, trying to hold the pieces together.

They didn't believe me.

The words played on repeat in my head. *Tests can be faked. Money. Status. You're lying. Prove it.*

I pressed my hand to my stomach, feeling nothing but my own skin, but knowing that beneath it, something precious and fragile was growing.

Something they didn't want.

How long I sat there, I didn't know. Minutes. Hours. Time felt meaningless.

Eventually, the tears dried up. The sobs became quiet hiccups, then nothing at all.

In their place came something else.

Clarity.

I couldn't stay here. Not in a pack that had already decided I was a liar. Not with three alphas who would rather deny their own child than face the consequences of one drunken night.

Not where every hallway, every room, every corner held memories of them.

I pushed myself to my feet, my legs shaky but holding.

My room in the omega housing was exactly as I'd left it that morning small, cold, empty. I pulled my battered suitcase from under the bed and started throwing clothes into it.

I didn't have much. A few worn shirts, some pants, underwear, a single jacket that had seen better days. My entire life fit into one small bag.

The thought should have been depressing, but instead it felt freeing.

I had nothing tying me here anymore.

I grabbed the little money I'd saved barely enough for a bus ticket and tucked it into my pocket. My toothbrush, a hairbrush, the prenatal vitamins Dr. Harrison had given me. Everything else I owned could stay behind.

I didn't need reminders of this life.

As I zipped the suitcase closed, I caught sight of myself in the cracked mirror hanging on the wall.

I looked like a ghost. Pale skin, red-rimmed eyes, hair falling out of its ponytail. I looked exactly like what I was a broken omega with nowhere to go.

But beneath the surface, I could feel something else stirring.

Determination.

Rage.

Survival.

I would not let them break me.

I would not let them destroy this child before it even had a chance.

I picked up my suitcase and walked out of my room for the last time.

The omega housing was quiet. Most of the workers were still at their posts, scrubbing floors and serving meals and pretending they didn't see the way the higher-ranked wolves treated them like furniture.

I'd been one of them for nineteen years.

Never again.

The pack house was easy to navigate when you'd spent your whole life cleaning it. I knew every back corridor, every servant's entrance, every route that avoided the main halls where alphas and betas gathered.

I saw no one as I made my way toward the edge of the territory.

Good.

I didn't want to explain. Didn't want to answer questions. Didn't want to see pity or judgment or worse—indifference.

The forest welcomed me with open arms. Trees towered overhead, their branches filtering the afternoon sunlight into scattered patches of gold. Birds called to each other, and somewhere nearby, a stream bubbled over rocks.

It should have been peaceful.

Instead, every step felt like a countdown.

The pack boundary was marked by an old stone wall, crumbling in places but still standing after generations. Beyond it lay the human world—a place I'd only heard about in whispered stories and hushed warnings.

Wolves didn't go to the human world.

Wolves who left the pack rarely came back.

I reached the wall and stopped, my hand resting on the cool stone.

On this side: the pack, the alphas, everything I'd ever known.

On the other side: the unknown, uncertainty, a future I couldn't see.

But also freedom.

Also safety.

Also a chance.

I thought about the baby growing inside me. About the extraordinary, unprecedented, powerful child that Dr. Harrison had talked about with awe in his voice.

My child deserved better than this.

Better than a pack that would cast us out.

Better than fathers who denied our existence.

Better than a life lived in the shadows, always afraid, always less than.

I climbed over the wall, my suitcase awkward in my hands, my movements clumsy.

The moment my feet touched the ground on the other side, I felt it.

The snap.

Like a rubber band pulled too tight finally breaking. The pack bond that had connected me to Silvercrest since birth severed cleanly, leaving behind an aching emptiness in my chest.

I gasped at the sensation, stumbling forward, catching myself against a tree.

I wasn't pack anymore.

I wasn't connected to anyone or anything.

For the first time in my life, I was truly alone.

The thought should have terrified me.

Instead, I felt lighter.

Free.

I pressed my hand to my stomach, feeling the warmth of my own skin, imagining I could feel the flutter of life beneath it.

"It's just you and me now," I whispered. "But I promise I'll keep you safe. I'll give you everything they wouldn't. Love. Support. A home where you never have to hide what you are."

A home where we'd never have to see their faces again.

Where we could finally breathe.

I adjusted my grip on my suitcase, squared my shoulders, and started walking.

I didn't look back.

Not at the wall.

Not at the forest.

Not at the pack territory that had been my entire world.

I looked forward, toward the road I could see in the distance, toward the human city that waited beyond the horizon.

Toward my new life.

Whatever it took, however hard it was, I would survive this.

We would survive this.

And one day, when they finally realized the truth, when they finally understood what they'd thrown awa

I would make sure they knew exactly what they'd lost.