CHAPTER TWENTY SIX

Lyra’s pov

I don’t remember opening the door. I don’t remember falling to my knees. I only remember the moment the sob broke free from my chest and everything spilled.

My chest ached like someone had reached in and squeezed my heart until it shattered. I tried to stop the tears, truly, but they wouldn’t stop. They fell in heavy, angry streaks, soaking my cheeks, burning down my neck.

The room was dark and cold. A few cots lined the walls, and thankfully, no one else had returned from their duties yet. Just me and my broken, bruised dignity.

“I was a fool,” I whispered into the silence, voice hoarse. “Why did I believe him? Why did I believe… them?”

I clutched the thin blanket from my cot, pressing it to my chest, like that would stop the way my world felt like it was unraveling. I should’ve known better. Kings didn’t choose girls like me. Wolves didn’t stay for girls like me.

They left.

They always left.

I curled in on myself, pressing my face to my knees, trying to muffle the raw sound that tore from my throat.

“I hate this place. I hate this bond. I hate—”

“Lyra.”

I froze.

What?

I looked around but no one was there.

The voice was… in my head.

My body tensed, and I lifted my head slowly, blinking through tears. Had I finally broken? Snapped under the weight of everything?

“Lyra, stop crying.”

My breath caught.

The voice wasn’t harsh, it was warm, gentle and strong.

“Who… who are you?”

A strange heat fluttered in my chest. Not painful… not this time. It spread softly through me like warmth in the middle of a storm.

“I’m you,” the voice said, “well, a part of you. Your wolf.”

I stared blankly at the floor, stunned.

“My… wolf?”

“Yes.” There was a pause. “I’m sorry I haven’t been here before. I know you’ve been alone. I know it’s been hard. But I couldn’t come forward… not until now.”

My throat tightened. I didn’t know if I was imagining this, dreaming it, or finally losing my mind. But I didn’t care.

I needed this.

Even if it wasn’t real.

“Why now?” I whispered aloud.

“Because something’s changing inside you. You’re getting stronger. I don’t have much time right now because i'm still too weak. But I needed you to know you’re not truly alone.”

Tears welled again, but they were different this time. It was a softer and more happy tears.

“I thought I didn’t have a wolf,” I murmured.

“You do. You always did. There’s… a reason I stayed quiet. A reason you were kept from me. And one day, you’ll understand why. But for now, I need you to stop crying.”

I gave a breathless laugh, one laced with sorrow. “That’s easier said than done.”

“You’re stronger than you think.”

I didn’t feel strong.

“I’m a slave. An outcast. Rejected. Mocked. Forgotten.”

“No.” Her voice was firm now. Fierce. “You’re Lyra. You survived when they tried to kill you. You’re still standing after being abandoned. You held your head high when Chloe tried to tear you down. You are not weak.”

I gave a small, watery smile. “Chloe’s not a lowlife. I am.”

“Pfft,” my wolf scoffed. “You’ll understand soon enough. That girl? She wishes she were you. But Ronan…”

She trailed off.

“What about him?”

“Even I can’t read him.”

My brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t know if he’s good or bad. He’s… gray. Complicated. But if he hurts you again, I swear to the Moon, I’ll tear him limb from limb.”

I barked out a real laugh this time, the sound so foreign and broken it felt unreal.

And then the warmth started to fade.

“No, wait—don’t go.”

“I’ll be back,” she said softly. “Just hold on a little longer. Everything you’ve suffered? It’ll all be worth it. I promise.”

“What's your name?” I hurriedly asked.

“I'll tell you next time.”

And then she was gone.

I sat in the silence that followed, heart thudding like I’d just stepped out of a dream. Except this time, I knew it wasn’t one.

She was real.

My wolf was real.

And I wasn’t as broken as they wanted me to believe.

I wiped my eyes with the corner of the thin blanket. I didn’t want to cry anymore. What would it solve? Nothing. I couldn’t change the fact that no mate wanted me. Not Kael. Not even… Ronan.

But I could work.

I could survive.

And that—that—was something no one could take from me.

I stood and stretched my sore limbs, muscles tight from the floor and emotional exhaustion. My eyes fell on the scroll. The one Ronan had given me—filled with an endless list of chores.

“Fine,” I muttered. “If I’m going to be treated like a servant, I’ll be the best damn servant in this whole cursed castle.”

I grabbed it and slipped out of the room, trying not to let my steps echo in the hallway. The moon hung high through the tall windows, casting silver pools of light on the stone.

I made my way to the king’s quarters, hugging the shadows, expecting most of the guards to be either half-asleep or somewhere else entirely.

But just as I rounded the final corridor—

A spear blocked my path.

I gasped and stumbled back, nearly dropping the scroll.

A tall guard stepped out of the shadows, armor glinting under the moonlight from a nearby torch.

“Lyra of Moonstone,” he said, voice deep and gruff. “You’ve been summoned.”

I blinked. “W-what?”

“The king requests your presence. Immediately. Throne room.”

I opened my mouth, closed it, then swallowed.

Why now?

Why me?

Why again?

But I nodded, heart thudding in my chest. “I… understand.”

The guard stepped aside and gestured for me to walk ahead.

I held the scroll tighter to my chest, the weight of it suddenly nothing compared to the weight in my lungs.

Whatever this was…

I just hoped I was ready for it.