CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Lyra's pov

The moment the kitchen was clean enough to pass as untouched for the servants tomorrow, I left.

I didn’t speak. Didn’t look at either of them. My fingers were still bleeding from picking up a shattered plate. My head throbbed with every step I took. My shoulder ached. My knees were scraped. But none of it compared to the ache inside me.

I rushed out through the back door, heart pounding, lungs tight. The cold air bit at my skin as I stumbled into the trees. I didn’t stop. Couldn’t. The forest opened its arms to me like a long-lost friend, and I ran, until my breath came in gasps, until my feet stung and the castle was just a bad dream behind me.

Only then did I fall to my knees.

The night was quiet.

Too quiet.

Just the sound of my shaky breaths and the trembling of my body as I gave in.

I cried.

Hard.

I let it all out—the pain, the humiliation, the shame. The anger. Each tear that spilled down my cheek felt like it had been waiting for years to fall.

“What did I do?” I whispered to the moon, to the stars, to the trees that had no answers. “Why me?”

My voice cracked.

“Why am I never enough? Why can’t I ever be enough? For anyone?”

I pulled my knees to my chest, curling into myself as sobs wracked my body. It was the kind of crying that felt endless—like it came from my soul. The kind I hadn’t allowed myself in a long, long time.

“I try so hard,” I choked. “I don’t cause trouble. I listen. I don’t fight back. And still… still I’m nothing but a whore in their eyes.”

I thought of the king’s eyes—dark and accusing.

Of Garrick’s helpless expression.

Of the way I had to beg just to exist in peace.

“I just want to be happy,” I whispered. “Just once. Is that so much to ask?”

A breeze blew through the trees, brushing against my damp skin. I didn’t move. I didn’t want to go back. I didn’t know how to go back. My soul felt heavy, broken, like something inside had cracked wide open.

And worse than anything—deep in my heart—I wondered if maybe this was all I was meant for. A life of silence and shadows. A life where even a smile was a threat. Where kindness was seen as deception.

“Why do you hate me so much?” I whispered, lifting my eyes to the stars. “Moon Goddess... what did I do to deserve this? Why do you always take everything from me? My mother. My pack. My peace. Am I your mistake?”

The words hung in the air, and I hated myself for asking them.

For even thinking them.

But in that moment, I felt so alone. So unloved. Like even the stars had turned their faces away from me.

I didn’t know how long I stayed there.

Eventually, my body gave up. Exhaustion crept in, soft and slow. My sobs turned to hiccups. My breaths grew shallow. My eyelids fluttered shut, too heavy to keep open.

And then—darkness.

But not just sleep.

A pulling.

Like something—or someone—was calling me.

The wind quieted.

The forest fell away.

And then I was standing somewhere else.

A field of silver flowers stretched endlessly beneath my feet, glowing faintly under a full, radiant moon. The air shimmered with something ancient, something divine.

And in the center of it all stood her.

Tall. Ethereal. Dressed in flowing silks made of starlight and shadow. Her skin shimmered like moonlight on water, and her eyes… her eyes held galaxies.

“Lyra,” she said, voice soft and echoing like a song carried on the wind.

I stared. “Moon Goddess?”

She nodded. “You weep as though you are cursed, child.”

“I am cursed,” I said bitterly, though I felt ashamed saying it before her.

But her expression was only kind. Calm. “No. You are chosen.”

I shook my head. “No, I’m not. I’ve lost everything. Everyone. And now I’m in a kingdom that hates me, serving a King who sees me as filth.”

The Goddess stepped closer.

“You were born of pain, yes. But your soul burns with light even in the darkest places.” She touched my cheek, and warmth spread through me like sunlight in winter.

“There is a reason your path has been difficult,” she continued. “A reason your smile shakes even the strongest of Shadowfang. A reason the King cannot stop watching you.”

I stilled.

“What reason?”

She looked up at the moon, then back at me.

“A prophecy was written long before your first breath,” she said. “One that speaks of a child of two bloods—of the dark and the light. A girl who would carry both shadow and fire in her veins. One who would awaken the lost bond. One who hold both kingdoms. Who would challenge the kings of old and rewrite destiny.”

My breath caught.

“That’s not me,” I whispered.

“It is.”

“But—I’m no one.”

“You are everything, Lyra.” Her voice grew fierce now, powerful and determined. “You are the light in the dark. The calm in the chaos. You are the prophecy come alive. And though they try to break you… they will not succeed.”

A gust of wind swirled around us, lifting her hair like a crown.

“The one who fears you most is the one tied to you by fate. He is your test. Your fire. But also your equal.”

“Ronan,” I whispered.

She gave a soft smile. “He is the storm. But you… you are the sun to chases it away.”

And then she began to fade.

“However, the past never stays buried. The one who cast you aside shall soon seek you. The choice is yours, which path to follow.”

“Wait,” I called out. “Don’t go.”

“Awaken,” she said. “Awaken, and rise.”

***

My eyes flew open with a gasp, air rushing into my lungs like I hadn’t breathed in hours.

The forest surrounded me again.

Dark. Cold. Real.

But something had changed.

I could still feel the ghost of her touch on my cheek. Her words in my ears.

A prophecy…

A bond…

I wasn’t just some ometa girl from Moonstone.

I was something more.

And whether the world liked it or not—they were about to find out.