Chapter 4: Did you miss me?

"The Mercers. They were good people. Are good people." Karla's eyes filled with fresh tears. "They passed away six months ago. Car accident. That's when I did the DNA test. I had no one left and I just... I needed to know if there was anyone out there who shared my blood."

Isabelle made a soft sound of sympathy and reached for Karla's hand.

Lyra watched the gesture....her mother comforting this stranger, and felt something crack inside her chest.

"So what happens now?" Her voice was remarkably steady. "You've found your real daughter. Do you want me to... leave?"

"Lyra, no!" Victor moved toward her. "This is your home. You are our daughter in every way that matters. We love you. That will never change."

"We want both of you," Isabelle said firmly. "You're both our daughters. Both Nightbanes. This family has room for all of us."

But Karla's eyes flickered with something dark and sharp when Isabelle said that. Just for a second. Then it was gone, replaced by more tears.

Lyra saw it, but she didn't say anything.

"I think..." Lyra stood, her legs somehow holding her weight. "I think I need some time to process this. If that's okay."

"Of course." Victor looked older than she'd ever seen him. "We'll have a proper family meeting tomorrow. Give everyone time to adjust."

"Thank you for coming home," Isabelle said softly. "I know this is overwhelming, but we'll figure this out together. As a family."

As a family.

Lyra nodded mechanically and turned toward the door, desperate to escape, to breathe, to think.

She made it halfway down the hallway before she collided with a wall of solid muscle.

Strong hands gripped her shoulders, steadying her before she could fall. But the hands didn't let go. They held her, fingers pressing into her flesh through the thin fabric of her blouse.

And then she felt it....the deliberate slide of one hand, moving from her shoulder down, fingers spreading wide until they rested just beneath her breast. So close. Too close.

Her body's reaction was instantaneous and mortifying.

Heat flooded through her, pooling between her thighs. Her nipples hardened into painful points, clearly visible through her bra and blouse. Her breath caught, coming faster, shallower.

She looked up.

Damien.

He was even more devastating than she remembered. Two years had honed him into something almost dangerous....sharper edges, darker shadows. He wore a black suit tailored to perfection, the jacket highlighting his broad shoulders, the crisp white shirt contrasting with his tanned skin.

But it was his eyes that destroyed her.

Dark, intense, and locked on her face with an expression that made her knees weak. He was looking at her like... like...

Like he wanted to devour her.

His thumb moved. Just slightly. Brushing against the underside of her breast in a slow, deliberate circle.

Lyra's breath hitched audibly.

"Lyra." Her name on his lips sounded like a prayer and a curse. His voice was deeper than she remembered, rougher. "You're home."

She couldn't speak. Couldn't think. Could barely breathe.

All she could focus on was his hand....still touching her, still moving in those maddening circles that made her core clench and wetness gather between her thighs.

God, she could feel it. The slickness. The evidence of how much her body wanted him. It was soaking through her panties, probably visible on her light-colored pants. Could he smell it? Could he tell?

His nostrils flared slightly, and his eyes darkened further.

He knew.

"Have you met our new sister?" The words were casual, but the way he said them, the slight emphasis on our, made them feel like a threat or a promise.

Lyra managed a jerky nod. She didn't trust her voice.

Damien's lips curved into a smile that was pure sin. Dark. Knowing. Predatory.

He leaned down, and she could smell him....expensive cologne mixed with something uniquely him. Clean. Masculine. Intoxicating.

His breath ghosted against her ear, and she shivered violently.

"Do you know," he whispered, his voice a dark caress, "how long I've been waiting for this?"

The words sent electricity down her spine. Her pussy clenched, another rush of wetness flooding her panties. She was so wet now that she could feel it starting to slide down the inside of her thigh.

"W-what?" Her voice came out breathy, desperate. "What did you say?"

Damien pulled back just enough to look at her, that devastating smile still playing on his lips. His hand finally....finally....left her breast, but only to move up and pat her head in a gesture that should have been condescending but felt possessive instead.

"For our family to be complete again," he said smoothly.

But his eyes told a completely different story.

They raked over her body, lingering on her hard nipples, dropping to where her thighs were pressed tightly together, then back up to her flushed face.

He knew exactly what he was doing to her.

"Go rest," he said, his voice dropping an octave. "You must be exhausted from your flight. We'll talk tomorrow. About everything."

The way he said everything made her skin prickle with awareness.

He stepped aside, giving her room to pass.

Lyra practically ran down the hallway to her bedroom, acutely aware of his eyes on her the entire way. Watching. Assessing. Claiming.

She fumbled with her bedroom door, finally getting it open and stumbling inside. She slammed it shut and locked it, then pressed her back against the wood, chest heaving.

What the fuck was that?

Her entire body was on fire. Her nipples ached. Her pussy throbbed with need. She could feel how wet she was, could feel the slickness coating her inner thighs.

From one touch. One look. A few whispered words.

She looked around her childhood bedroom, everything exactly as she'd left it. The white four-poster bed. The bookshelves lined with her favorite novels. The window seat where she used to curl up and read.

It should have felt safe. Familiar.

Instead, it felt like a trap.

Lyra stumbled to the bed and sat down heavily, her mind spinning.

I'm not a Nightbane. Damien isn't really my brother. We're not related at all.

The thought should have brought relief. Should have made her secret desires feel less shameful.

Instead, it terrified her.

Because if he wasn't her brother... if there was no blood between them... what was stopping him from...

A sound outside her door made her freeze.

Footsteps.

It Stopped right outside her room.

She could see the shadow beneath the door....someone standing there. Waiting.

Her heart hammered against her ribs.

One minute passed. Then two.

The shadow didn't move.

He was just... standing there. On the other side of the door. So close.

What was he doing? Listening to her breathe? Imagining what she was doing in here?

Did he know she was sitting on her bed, still wet and aching, her body betraying her with every rapid heartbeat?

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the shadow moved.

Footsteps retreating down the hallway.

He was gone.

But somehow, the absence felt even more threatening than his presence.

Lyra's phone buzzed in her pocket.

With shaking hands, she pulled it out.

One new message in the anonymous app.

DarkVeil: Welcome home, little one. Did you miss me?