All Chapters of LYRA: REBORN FOR REVENGE : Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

The King gestured toward a small sitting area near the fireplace, where two comfortable chairs faced each other across a low table. "Please, sit," he said, his voice gentle. "Would you like some tea? I find it helps with difficult conversations." Lyra nodded, not trusting her voice. Now that she was actually here, now that she'd committed to this path, the enormity of what she was doing threatened to overwhelm her. The King moved to a side table where a tea service had been laid out. His movements were precise and elegant as he prepared two cups, the domesticity of the action somehow at odds with his imposing presence and royal mask. He handed her a cup, and Lyra wrapped her fingers around it, grateful for the warmth. The King settled into the chair across from her, cradling his own cup but not drinking. "Take your time," he said quietly. "There's no rush. We have all night if needed." That simple reassurance, that patience, nearly undid her. When was the last time someone had g

Mason stood in the doorway, his body radiating tension and barely controlled fury. Behind him, pack members crowded in the hallway, craning their necks to see what the commotion was about. And there was Jessy, positioned perfectly to ensure everyone got a good view of the Luna caught alone with the Lycan King in his private chambers. It was a trap. A perfectly executed trap, and Lyra had walked right into it. But before Mason could speak, before the situation could spiral further out of control, Jessy's expression shifted. The shock melted away, replaced by exaggerated relief. "Lyra! There you are!" she exclaimed, rushing forward and grasping Lyra's hands. "Mason has been looking everywhere for you! We were so worried." The performance was flawless. The concerned friend, relieved to find her wandering Luna safe. But Lyra could see the calculation in Jessy's eyes, could practically watch her mind working, already forming whatever narrative would serve her best. Lyra's mind raced. S

While Lyra endured Jessy's threats and Mason's suspicions, the Lycan King was conducting his own investigation. The morning after the confrontation in his chambers, he summoned his most trusted advisor to his private study. Commander Darius had served the King for fifteen years. He was loyal, discreet, and had an uncanny ability to uncover information that others tried to hide. He stood before the King now, a folder of documents in his hands. "Your Majesty," Darius said, his voice low despite the privacy of the room. "I have the information you requested." "Tell me everything," the King said, settling into his chair behind the desk. Darius opened the folder, scanning the first page. "We've been monitoring Alpha Mason's activities since our arrival, as you instructed. The pattern is clear and consistent. Three times since we've been here, he's left the pack house late at night, always around the same time. He travels to a cottage on the eastern edge of pack territory." "And w

Mason gave his answer the following evening. Through gritted teeth and with visible reluctance, he agreed to the cultural exchange. The King would depart in two days, and Lyra would accompany him to the Royal Pack for one month. The announcement should have brought relief. Instead, it unleashed something darker in both Mason and Jessy. Within hours, the whispers began. Lyra first noticed them in the pack dining hall the morning after the announcement. She'd arrived for breakfast to find clusters of pack members falling silent as she approached, their eyes sliding away from hers, their expressions a mixture of pity and suspicion. "Did you hear?" one woman whispered to her companion, not quite quietly enough. "The Luna is leaving for a whole month. To be with him." "With the King?" her friend gasped. "That's so inappropriate. Poor Alpha Mason." Lyra's hands clenched around her breakfast tray, but she kept walking, keeping her head high. She couldn't let them see how their words aff

The farewell dinner was Mason's idea. A formal send-off for his Luna, he'd announced, a show of pack unity and support for the cultural exchange. On the surface, it was a magnanimous gesture. In reality, it was another performance, another opportunity to maintain the facade while the rot festered underneath. The pack's grand dining hall had been decorated for the occasion. Candles flickered on every table, flowers arranged in elegant centerpieces. The best china had been brought out, the finest wines uncorked. It looked like a celebration. It felt like a funeral. Lyra sat at the head table beside Mason, wearing a formal gown that had been chosen more for appearance than comfort. The bruises on her wrist were carefully concealed beneath long sleeves and strategically placed bracelets. She smiled when expected, nodded at the right moments, and played her part. But inside, she was counting the hours until she could leave this place. The Lycan King sat to Mason's left, his masked face