017: Fractured threads

Lyra POV

The moment 1 heard the soft click of their doors shutting, first Kael’s, then Dax’s, 1 let the dam break.

My tears fell silently. Soaking into the scratchy fabric of the couch cushion beneath me. Alone in the vast emptiness of the living room, 1 finally dropped the mask. No one to see me. No one to accuse me. No one to care.

Why this?

Why, after years of crawling through darkness, of surviving off scraps of hope and dignity, did the goddess tie my fate to three men who saw me as nothing more than a curse? I had dared to believe in the myth of fated mates—of someone who would choose me, despite it all. But this? This was no sacred bond. This was a cruel twist. A nightmare dressed in destiny.

I had always fought. Always endured. But tonight, the weariness clung to me like a second skin. 1 was so tired. Of Ronon’s contempt. Of Kael’s emotional distance. Of the confusion Dax stirred within me. Tired of being seen, but never known. Tired of existing in the gray, neither enemy nor equal.

The silence of the cabin grew heavy around me, pressing on my chest. Outside, the wind howled low against the frosted windows. Echoing the emptiness inside me. 1 reached for the only thing that had offered a sliver of comfort, Dax’s blanket. And curled into it, wrapping myself as tightly as I could. Still, the cold crept in. burrowing into my bones like guilt.

I tried to remember warmth. Summer sun. The scent of honeysuckle from the South. My sister’s laugh. But those memories felt distant, like stories told to someone else.

My fingers, half-numb, fumbled through the kitchen drawers in search of anything to soothe the ache, a cup of tea. Maybe. Something familiar. Something soft. But there was nothing. Only harsh metal, empty flasks, and silence.

Ronon’s voice echoed in my head.

Thief. Useless. Mistake.

Fine. Let me be the mistake.

I opened the cabinet and found a bottle of liquor tucked behind a row of dusty glasses. My hand trembled as 1 reached for it, the chill in the air meeting the ice inside me. I uncApped it and took a long swallow. The burn scorched my throat, and for a second. I felt… nothing. Sweet, blessed nothing.

1 returned to the couch, the bottle half-tucked under the blanket, and pulled it clOser to my chest. The edges of the world began to blur, and finally. Sleep came fitful and shallow, but enough to silence the storm for a while.

Morning.

Pale sunlight streamed through the tall windows, washing the wooden floors in golden streaks. My head tHrobbed as T blinked, trying to make sense of where I was. The familliar ache in my limbs returned first, then the sharp stiffness of the couch, and finally—voicEs.

Kael and Ronon were seated at the dining table. Quiet. Watching.

The moment my eyes met Ronon’s, I knew.

He knew.

His arms were crossed. And a smug flicker danced in his eyes. Kael’s face, in contrAst, was unrEadable, stoic as ever, yet something in his gaze didn’t feel entirely cold.

“You’ve given yourself a holiday?” Kael asked mildly, a brow arched.

I didn’t answer. Couldn’t tell if it was judgment or curiosity behind his words. He leaned forward slighTly, resting his forearms on the table.

“You took some booze last night?”

I nodded, slow, deliberate.

His eyes softened, just a shade, while Ronon snorted with mock amusement. The sound scraped against my nerves, sharp as broken glass.

“I was cold,” 1 murmured, voice hoarse. “There wasn’t any tea. I didn’t mean to… 1 just needed something to help me sleep. That’s all.”

Kael gave a small nod. “It’s fine.” His voice was calm. “Feel free to drink as much as you like.”

And with that, he stood and walked away, his steps even, unhurried. 1 stared after him, unsure if I’d just been dismissed or spared.

Ronon remained.

His gaze flicked down to my feet, and only then did I realize I was wearing socKs The same oNes I’d tossed back at him days ago. The same ones I swore I’d never wear.

My heart clenched.

Someone had put them on me. In my sleep.

Heat rushed to my face. Not the warm kind. The furious, humiliated kind.

I reached down, ready to yank them off, ready to reject even the smallest gesture of pity from people who treated me like a burden.

“Relax,” Ronon said dryly. “Your feet were freezing. I had no choice but to warm them up for you with socks.”

He didn’t wait for a reply. Just walked off like it meant nothing. Like he hadn’t done something strangely… kind.

I sat there, stunned, sock-clad feet tucked beneath me.

Minutes later, he returned with a large bag and shoved it toward me.

“Take it.”

I eyed it warily. “No.”

“You don’t have to say thank you,” he said, tone flat. “Consider it payment for all the maid work you’ve been doing.”

I hesitated. I hated him. But I hated wearing dirty clothes more.

Without a word, 1 took the bag.

Ronon’s gaze lingered. “Stasia’s coming by today. Be nice. Try not to scowl so hard, you’ll terrify her.”

I gave a half-hearted shrug. Whatever.

After he left, I took the longest shower of my life. Scrubbed until my skin stung. Combed my hair. Brushed my teeth. Looked in the mirror and barely recognized the girl staring back—clean, but hollow.

With no chores assigned, I sat on the couch, wrapped in a fresh sweater and jeans from the bag. Time passed. Slowly. Painfully slowly.

Kael stayed upstairs. Dax was gone, traveling, they’d said.

Then Ronon returned.

Slammed the door.

The force of his rage hit me like a punch. My breath hitched, the bond crackling between us with white-hot anger. I didn’t need to hear the words. I felt it.

I curled into the far corner of the couch. Trying to vanish.

Kael came down the stairs a moMent later, pausing at The edge of the room.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, calm but cautious.

Ronon’s jaw clenched. “Stasia found Out I have a mate.”

I stilled.

“She gave me an ultimatum,” he spat.

The words hung in the air like smoke. Heavy. Suffocating.

No one spoke. Kael’s silence was sharp, and I dared not move. The space between them stretched, full of things neither would say aloud.

And somehow, in that stillness, I knew…

Whatever came next wouldn’t just affect them.

It would break something inside all of us.