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24. The Shock II
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2025-11-23 05:53:16Zara straightened slowly, deliberately, smoothing her skirt down over her hips but not bothering to wipe the wetness from her thighs. She wanted me to see it. Wanted me to see the evidence of him dripping out of her. "It's not just your house, pup," she said, using the old insult like a blade slipped between my ribs. "It's the Alpha's den. And he invited me."
The word "pup" echoed in my head. It was what the pack had called me after my parents' betrayal came to light, the traitor's pup, the murderer's daughter, the girl too weak to have known what her own blood was planning. I'd spent years trying to prove I wasn't that frightened, broken thing anymore.
Larry's eyes never left mine, watching my reaction, cataloging every micro-expression. "Lyra. We'll talk. Alone."
"Will we?" I asked, surprised by how steady my voice sounded. I was proud of that. Proud that I didn't scream or cry or shift and tear them both apart like the wolf inside me was howling for me to do.
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He Hated Me First 33. The Cup and the Crown
Dinner in the great hall always felt like a performance. Not a meal. Not a gathering. A stage built for power, politics, and silent wars. The long tables were already full when I entered. Warriors, elders, families. Eyes flicking up, pausing on me, then darting away as if looking too long would stain them. Zara sat beside Larry dressed like she owned the world, leaning close enough that her perfume clouded the air around him. She laughed at something he said, touching his arm with deliberate sweetness. He didn’t move away. He never moved away. I forced my lungs to work as I walked to my usual place further down, near the servants and lower-ranked wolves. It had become the only place where I could breathe. But I hadn’t even reached it when Larry’s voice cut across the hall. “Lyra.” Every conversation stilled. Every eye turned. Zara smiled like she’d been waiting for this exact moment. I lifted my chin. “Yes?” Larry gestured lazily to the empty spot in fron
He Hated Me First 32. A Test Meant to Break Me
LyraThe council chamber always felt colder than the rest of the pack house.Maybe it was the stone walls.Maybe the high ceiling that swallowed every whisper.Or maybe it was the way every pair of eyes always seemed sharpened, watching, weighing, waiting for someone to bleed.Today was no different.Except this time, I was the one standing in the center.The Elders sat in their semicircle, robes dark as storm clouds. Zara was off to the side near her family, smugness practically dripping off her like perfume. Larry stood near the head chair, arms crossed, gaze blank.Silent.Unmoving.Unhelpful.Elder Rowan tapped the butt of his staff against the floor. “Luna Lyra, we have called this assembly to assess your preparedness to fulfill your duties.”Preparedness.That dangerous word.I clasped my hands behind me. “I understand.”Zara stepped forward, voice sugar-coated. “The Luna plays an important role in upholding our customs. I’m sure Lyra won’t mind answering a few questions.”A few
He Hated Me First 31. Low Lives and Higher Truths
The pup, whom I’d started calling “Ash”…slept curled beside my pillow, small chest rising and falling with delicate, uneven breaths. She was healing slowly, but she was healing.And somehow, taking care of her loosened something tight around my heart. I wasn’t whole, not even close, but the cracks didn’t feel as sharp when she was near.Still… I couldn’t stay locked in my room forever.I needed to breathe different air.I needed people who weren’t Larry or Zara.I needed something, anything to remind me that I wasn’t invisible here.So that afternoon, I made my way toward the servant quarters.Several maids were gathered near the laundry line, folding fresh linens. Their chatter ebbed the moment I approached, drifting off into awkward silence.A few bowed stiffly.A few looked at the ground.One walked away entirely, pretending she suddenly remembered a chore.I forced a gentle smile. “Good afternoon.”Two mumbled a quiet greeting.No one met my eyes.I stepped closer. “I wanted to ch
He Hated Me First The Pup They Left to Die
LyraI needed air.Real air. Quiet air. Air that didn’t smell like betrayal and whispered rumors and Zara’s perfume clinging to the walls like mold.So I slipped out of the pack house through the back corridor, past the cold stone, past the stares I pretended not to see, and into the open grounds behind the eastern training field.The sun was dipping low, staining the sky a bruised red. The wind brushed against my cheeks, sharp but cleansing. For the first time all day, I felt my lungs loosen.Just walk, Lyra.Walk until the ache dulls.The ground was still damp from morning rain, the grass cool beneath my shoes. I wrapped my cloak tighter around myself, letting the quiet settle into my bones.Silence was a strange comfort.It didn’t ask questions.It didn’t judge.It didn’t compare me to Zara.I kept walking past the stables, past the training pit where dried blood stained the sand, and into the small wooded area at the edge of the territory.Then I heard it…A sound so soft I almost
He Hated Me First 29. Ignored
She gently pulled her hand free, the movement so smooth I couldn't have stopped it without truly hurting her."...am simply adjusting."The words felt like claws dragging slowly down my spine. Not quick and sharp like a clean wound. Slow and deliberate, leaving tracks that would scar."You think this is adjustment?" I heard myself say. "This silence? This distance?""It's peace.""You think ignoring me is peace?""No." She met my eyes fully, and for a moment the mask slipped just enough to show me the truth. "It's survival."The word hit like a physical blow.Survival.Not defiance. Not revenge. Not even conscious choice.Survival.The way prey learns to go still when the predator is near. The way wounded things find dark places to heal or die in peace.I was the thing she needed to survive.That realization, that understanding of how she saw me, how she'd been forced to see me, felt
He Hated Me First 28. It Shouldn't Hurt
There was something almost poetic about the answer, something that suggested depths I'd never bothered to explore. And beneath the poetry was a cutting edge, my thoughts are better company than you.I hated the calmness in her voice. The lack of fear. The lack of anything I could grab onto, fight against, dominate.It felt like she was holding up a shield, one I hadn't given her permission to carry. One she'd forged herself in the fires I'd lit."Lyra." I forced my voice lower, softer, trying for something that might reach past her defenses. "Look at me."She did.But the look wasn't submissive, there was no lowering of lashes, no softening of features. It wasn't defiant either, no challenge in the set of her jaw, no fire in her gaze.It was nothing.A mirror reflecting nothing back.A window into an empty room.I saw my own face in her eyes and didn't recognize what I'd become.The temper I'd been holdin
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