THE ECHO OF HER BETRAYAL**

*LUCIAN*

“Your Grace? It’s time for supper.”

Lyria’s voice is soft—too soft—floating across the room like she expects me to turn, to smile, to pretend.

I don’t move.

I stand at the window, watching the heavy rain blur the lights of my pack’s town. Fog curls along the ground, dimming the streets until everything looks as ghostly as I feel.

“It’s been so long since we sat as a family and ate together,” she adds.

Family.

She says the word like she’s earned it.

Ever since I named her Luna, she’s believed she suddenly has the right to comment on my absence. As if claiming the title means she claimed me.

I inhale tightly through my nose.

“Go ahead and eat without me.”

Still, I don’t look back.

What would be the point?

She has already achieved her aim.

My wolf has been silent ever since Hazel was escorted from my lands. His grief hangs heavy and quiet, like a storm waiting to break.

She is ours, he whispers. She is the only truth we ever touched.

And then he goes quiet again.

He mourns his mate.

I mourn the girl who wrapped my trust in lies.

“Still thinking about her?” Lyria’s voice slices through the silence. “Thinking about someone who didn’t care how you felt? Someone who chose to betray you?”

Those poison under her words. She wants them to burn.

“Lyria,” I murmur, barely holding on to my patience. “Let me be.”

My heart is too broken to pretend to love and care anymore. Maybe that will change in time when our child is born, but I doubt it.

“Nora,” she snaps. “When was the last time you checked on her? After everything that happened with your precious mate, you’re so obsessed with?”

Her voice sharpens. Darkens.

I haven’t seen Nora since the incident. I assumed she was fine. Right?

You assumed, my wolf growls.

I finally turn to face Lyria. Tears cling to her lashes, intentional and glistening. She’s wearing a thin, almost transparent dress that leaves her entire body outlined, the fabric clinging openly to her chest. No undergarments, no shame.

“Why are you so determined to destroy Hazel?” I ask. “I thought she was your friend.”

Her tears tremble. Manipulative. Practiced.

That trick has no power over me anymore.

“Why can’t you love me the way you loved her?” she whispers. “Why can’t you see me the way I want you to?”

I exhale slowly. The air feels too heavy.

“Lyria, the child you carry—that you claim is mine—is the only thing connecting us now. Nothing more.”

She knew the arrangement.

I told her clearly—after she conceived an heir, she would serve as Luna. Nothing else. No more sharing my bed. No more pretending.

Once that resulted in a child, I would no longer call on her to come to my bed. I’d help her raise our heir and she, in turn, would be a good Luna for our pack.

That’s all I could give her.

But she keeps twisting things until I can barely think.

Hazel’s betrayal still burns like a reopened wound.

“So Nora means nothing to you now?” Lyria asks, voice cracking. “I don’t mean anything to you?”

“How am I supposed to trust anything you say after what you did with Hazel? After you sold out your own friend?”

The room goes still.

I’ve held that truth back for too long.

I’m tired of pretending. My heart is too fractured to fake care that no longer exists.

“Leave, Lyria. Don’t bother me again tonight.”

She doesn’t move.

“I’m not leaving until you make yourself useful.”

My jaw tightens.

When did she grow bold enough to challenge me like this? She was supposed to obey. I didn’t make her my Luna to listen to her arguments.

I walk past her before I do something I’ll regret. She’s trembling with rage now, eyes wild.

“Did she ever know you killed her brother?”

My entire body freezes.

My wolf roars so fiercely inside me; I taste blood.

Rip her apart.

Silence her.

But I force myself to turn the knob. And then I slam the door behind me before I give in to the urge.

I stop.

Nora stands right outside.

So small. So fragile.

Tears fill her eyes — and something inside me shatters completely.

My wolf whimpers.

Did she hear anything? Did she hear that?

The moment our eyes meet, she runs.

“Oh, shit. Nora, wait—I’m—”

My phone vibrates, interrupting me, dragging my attention away.

I check the caller ID and force a breath.

“Your Grace,” Clara says urgently, “the Blackspires… they’re nearing the border.”

My mind snaps back into Alpha mode.

I sigh at that, the pain inside of me gradually subsiding as I’m thankfully distracted.

“The border. How strong is the barrier?”

“It’s holding, but it won’t last two weeks. Patrols are already in place—they’ll update soon.”

“Good.” I ended the call.

Rage, grief, confusion—everything coils inside my chest until only one thing can contain it.

My wolf bursts forward.

And I launch myself into the storm.