“Yes, Lyra. You’re right.” I rubbed my temples, grounding myself, reminding my Inner Wolf to stay still, to stop reaching for a ghost. This wasn’t her. The woman standing before me was Lyra, not Cassandra.“Thank you for coming all this way,” I said, voice clipped. “Get ready for the gala tonight.”Lyra’s lips curved into a bright smile. She stepped closer, looping her arm around mine with that familiar, calculated affection. “I’ll make sure to look stunning for you, darling.”She kept talking—about dresses, jewelry, appearances—but her words washed over me like meaningless noise. I only gave the bare minimum response, enough to keep her content. For some reason, listening to her no longer stirred anything in me.What kept me still was that faint trace of scent—so subtle I might’ve missed it if I hadn’t known it by heart. It wrapped around me like a ghost
Last Updated : 2025-11-11 Read more