Chapter 5

Lyra’s POV

Genevieve’s mask had cracked.

She stood there in my room, expecting me to flinch, to cry, to give her the satisfaction she craved. But I simply leaned back against the headboard, met her eyes with calm curiosity, and asked the one question she wasn’t prepared for.

“Why?”

The word hung in the air. Genevieve froze mid-lean, her triumphant smile dying on her lips. For the first time, she looked genuinely unsettled.

“Why do they care about you more than me?” I continued softly, voice light but cutting. “Is it because you’re their real family? Because you’re so kind and loving? Or because you truly believe you deserve everything you’ve stolen from me?”

Her manicured nails dug into the edge of my desk until her knuckles turned white. Her perfect posture stiffened. The carefully crafted victim facade trembled.

I pressed on. “Then why are you here in my room, trying so hard to convince me of it?”

Genevieve’s sapphire eyes flashed with fury and something closer to fear. She opened her mouth, closed it, then hissed, “Shut up,” before storming out and slamming the door so hard the walls shook.

The silence that followed felt like victory, but it brought no comfort. I needed to leave this place. Now. Before their affection turned into the ropes, the strap, and the Mercy Frost I still tasted in my nightmares.

I smoothed my simple dress, took a steadying breath, and walked straight to the Alphas’ Sanctum on the far side of the estate.

The heavy double doors opened under my hands. The familiar scents of sandalwood, ink, and pine hit me like a wave — once symbols of safety and home, now reminders of how easily love could become chains.

Caspian sat behind the massive oak desk, reviewing border reports with his usual intense focus. Silas stood by the towering bookshelves, arms crossed, watching everything in silence. Soren lounged in a velvet chair, twirling a silver dagger between his fingers with lazy confidence.

My heart hammered, but I kept my spine straight and my voice calm — the perfect, submissive tone expected of an omega addressing her Alphas.

“I am requesting permission to permanently leave the Sterling Estate and renounce my place in the pack.”

The air in the room thickened instantly.

Caspian’s golden-brown eyes snapped up, locking onto mine with shocking intensity. Silas’s gaze narrowed, studying me like a puzzle. Soren’s dagger froze mid-spin, his easy smirk vanishing completely.

“No,” Caspian said flatly, his voice a wall of pure authority.

I blinked, genuine surprise cutting through my resolve. I had expected anger, arguments, even threats. Not this immediate, immovable refusal.

“I have no purpose here anymore,” I said, keeping my tone even. “There is no reason for me to stay.”

Silas rubbed his temple, frustration and something softer — concern? — flickering across his face. “Lyra, don’t start this today.”

Soren let out a low, dark chuckle. “Since when do you care what Genevieve says?”

The words slipped out before I could stop them. “Since it became clear that the three of you always believe her over me.”

Caspian leaned forward, palms flat on the desk. His dominant Alpha aura pressed against me, heavy and demanding submission. “You are not leaving this territory. It is not an option.”

Something inside me cracked.

“Why not?” My voice rose, raw emotion breaking through the careful mask I had worn since waking in this second life. “Why keep me here when Genevieve has already taken my place? When you’ve all made it clear I don’t belong?”

The memories surged forward unbidden. In the future I remembered, these same men had tied me to a chair. Caspian’s strap had cracked across my skin while he called me the end of everything. Julian—no, Silas—had watched with cold detachment. Soren had pressed the freezing vial to my lips, whispering that forgetting me was mercy. Their love had turned to cruelty so easily.

Yet here they were, refusing to let me go.

Caspian’s jaw tightened, a muscle ticking in his cheek. “You were brought here by Julian. You were raised in this pack. This is your home.”

Home. The word tasted bitter. “No, it isn’t,” I whispered. “You made that clear a long time ago.”

Soren stood slowly, his tall frame casting a long shadow as he stepped closer. His dark sapphire eyes searched my face with an intensity that made my skin prickle. “What is this sudden obsession with leaving us? Did Genevieve come to your room? What did she say?”

I clenched my fists in my skirt, nails biting into my palms. “Does it matter? You always choose her tears in the end.”

Silas exhaled heavily. “You’re staying, Lyra. End of discussion.”

The frustration boiled over. I had died because of them. I had begged, cried, and defended myself until my voice gave out, and it had only made their doubt grow. Now I was trying to walk away cleanly, and they wouldn’t allow it.

“Why?” I demanded, voice cracking. “Give me one real reason why you suddenly care whether I stay or go.”

Silence answered me.

Caspian watched me without blinking, his golden eyes dark with an emotion I couldn’t name. Silas studied every breath I took, every shift in my posture. Soren’s fingers tapped restlessly against his thigh — a small tell of unease I had never seen in my past life.

They wouldn’t look at each other. Their focus stayed entirely on me, like three predators circling the same prey. Something in this timeline felt dangerously different.

For years they had let Genevieve chip away at me. They had pulled away, given her gifts, comforted her tears, and left me in the shadows. Yet now their refusal to let me leave felt almost desperate.

I took a small step back toward the door. “So I’m simply a prisoner here?”

Soren’s lips curved into a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. He moved closer, voice dropping low with a dark, possessive edge. “If you were a prisoner, Little Star, you would already be locked in our quarters.”

The words sent an involuntary shiver down my spine. Heat and fear twisted together in my chest, making me feel terrified.