Nyxara Rising
Nyxara’s hands stilled, heart stuttering before it hardened again.
Hospital room—sterile, washed in gentle white light. Brielle perched at the edge of a bed, her hand splayed protectively over her swollen belly. Cassian stood beside her, his hand covering hers, faces close, sharing secrets and laughter that once belonged to Nyxara alone.
Nyxara’s vision tunneled, the world narrowing to a pinprick of icy rage.
There it was—confirmation, as sharp as a blade. Not just betrayal, but obliteration. They hadn’t hesitated; hadn’t mourned her, not for a moment. They hadn’t even bothered to pretend.