Chapter 3

Lyra’s POV

I woke up gasping, lungs burning as if I were still falling. My hands flew to my chest, my ribs, my throat, searching for broken bones, wire cuts, bruises. There was nothing. Only smooth, warm skin and the soft press of linen sheets.

I scrambled out of bed and stumbled to the mirror. The girl staring back was whole. Bright eyes. Healthy chestnut hair. Pink lips. Eighteen years old again.

A sob tore from my throat as I sank to the floor. 

The last thing I remembered was the cliffs, the freezing river, and my desperate prayer: Great Mother, witness my wrong. Give me the strength to return.

She had answered.

Five years of pain—ropes, beatings, betrayal, and death—had been erased. But the memories remained. Every cruel word. Every touch that once meant love, turned into torture.

I remembered Soren forcing the Mercy Frost past my lips while calling me his Little Star. Julian’s silver wire cutting into my wrists as he whispered how I had never been one of them. Caspian’s strap cracking across my body before he severed our bond.

A shout drifted up from the garden below. I knew this day. The day Genevieve first poisoned them against me.

This time, I wouldn’t beg. I wouldn’t cry. I would make them hate me and cast me out before the real nightmare began.

I walked onto the balcony and looked down.

Genevieve stood at the edge of the ornamental pond, white silk dress soaked and clinging to her body. She shivered delicately, tears sparkling on her cheeks as she reached for Soren’s arm. “She pushed me in! Lyra attacked me!”

Caspian stood with arms crossed, brow furrowed. Julian watched with sharp, analytical eyes. Soren had his hands in his pockets, looking bored.

My heart clenched painfully. These were the same men who would one day tie me to a chair and call my death mercy. Yet seeing them now—alive, whole, and standing so close—still stole my breath. I had loved them with every piece of my soul. And they had destroyed me.

I descended the grand staircase with steady steps and walked straight into the garden.

“I pushed her,” I said clearly, meeting their gazes without flinching. “On purpose.”

Silence fell. Genevieve’s eyes widened in shock before she let out another theatrical sob. “See? She admitted it! She’s dangerous!”

I waited for their anger. For the cold disgust I remembered so well.

Instead, Caspian let out a long, weary sigh and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “It’s fine, Lyra.”

I blinked. “What?”

Julian’s lips curved into a faint, almost amused smile. “Accidents happen when tensions run high. Try not to make it a habit.”

Soren laughed—that low, melodic sound I used to love. He stepped forward and tweaked my nose playfully. “You’re in a prickly mood today, Little Star. It’s kind of cute.”

Cute?

This was wrong. These were the men who would later watch me bleed and call it justice. Yet here Soren was, smiling at me with warm affection. Caspian looked more tired than angry. Julian’s sapphire eyes held a spark of teasing interest instead of ice.

My plan was crumbling.

I turned, walked straight to Genevieve, and shoved her hard with both hands. She fell back into the pond with a loud splash, shrieking as water soaked her completely.

“I did it again,” I snapped, turning back to the men. My voice shook with desperation. “Twice. In front of all of you. Are you going to exile me now or not?”

Caspian sighed again, softer this time. “Lyra, don’t be dramatic.”

Soren moved closer and ruffled my hair gently, then let his fingers linger at the back of my neck. The warmth of his touch sent unwanted sparks down my spine. “Feisty. I like it. You should stay angry more often, it brings out the color in your cheeks.”

Julian stepped in, tilting his head with that familiar curiosity that once made my heart race. His voice dropped low, teasing. “Maybe our Little Star is just craving attention.” He leaned closer, breath brushing my ear. “We’d be happy to give you plenty, if you’re feeling neglected.”

My face burned. I could still remember Julian’s cold hands tying me down, yet here he was looking at me like I was something precious.

Soren slung a warm arm around my shoulders and pulled me against his chest. The scent of cedar and rain wrapped around me—the same scent that once meant safety and love. “Come inside. We’ll get you some tea and calm you down.”

I stood frozen, trapped between memories of their future cruelty and this unexpected tenderness. My heart ached with violent conflict. I hated them for what they would become. I still loved them for what they once were. And right now, they were looking at me like I was still theirs.

Genevieve dragged herself out of the pond, fury twisting her perfect features. “You’re not going to do anything? She assaulted me twice!”

Caspian barely glanced at her. “You’re wet, not injured. Go change and stop bothering us.”

Genevieve’s mouth fell open in disbelief.

“Go to your room, Lyra,” Caspian said gently, almost fondly. “We’ll talk later.”

“I’d rather be banished,” I whispered, the words slipping out raw and honest.

Soren’s grin widened. He cupped my jaw with warm, calloused fingers and tilted my face up to his. “And I’d rather kiss that scowl away. Consider that your warning.”

The intensity in his eyes made my stomach flip. I backed away, then ran.

I didn’t stop until I was locked inside my room, back pressed against the door as I slid to the floor. My heart pounded wildly.

This wasn’t the second chance I expected.

In my past life, this exact day had been the beginning of their doubt. My tears and desperate defenses had only made Genevieve’s lies stronger. But today I had confessed. I had pushed her again. 

And instead of hatred, they had shown me patience… affection… even desire.

What if my fear and begging had been the real poison?

What if they had never stopped loving me?

The thought terrified me more than the cliffs ever had. I wrapped my arms around my knees, remembering the heat of Soren’s arm around me, Caspian’s soft sigh, Julian’s teasing whisper against my ear.

How was I supposed to survive them if they were determined to love me?

I closed my eyes, torn between the memories of ropes and frost and the warmth of their touches today.

The Great Mother had given me another chance at life.

But she had also handed me back the three men who would either save me… or destroy me all over again.