I froze. The words hit me harder than anything had before. Official mate. He was planning on marrying her. He was planning to replace me—make her the Luna.
The tears welled up in my eyes, but I forced them back. I couldn’t let them see how much this hurt. But as the conversation continued, the crushing reality settled in.
I wanted to scream, to confront him, but I couldn’t. What could I say? The truth was, he had already made his decision. He had already moved on.
I pushed my wheelchair toward the window, looking out at the pack house where I had once felt so at home, so loved. Now, it was just a reminder of everything I was losing.
This was it.
The door to my room opened slowly, and I turned, half-expecting Xavier. But instead, it was Celeste standing there, a smug grin on her face.
“You heard everything, didn’t you?”
I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. What was there to say?
Her smile widened. “Don’t worry, Lyra. You’ll always be remembered as the one who helped us get here. But now, it’s my time. Get used to it.”
With that, she walked out, leaving me alone with my thoughts.
That evening, Xavier and Celeste dressed to the nines, preparing for some fancy family dinner I wasn’t invited to. Of course, why would I be? I was just the discarded Luna now, left to sit in my wheelchair like an afterthought.
As they walked out the door, Xavier didn’t even glance back at me. Celeste, on the other hand, threw me a sweet smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Don’t wait up, Lyra,” her voice laced with mockery.
The house was quiet once they were gone, I sat alone in the living room, staring at the flickering flames in the fireplace.
That night, I must have dozed off in the living room while drinking my tea. When I opened my eyes, I was startled to find myself at the top of the grand staircase, still in my wheelchair.
My heart raced as I tried to process how I’d gotten there. I didn’t remember anyone moving me.
That’s when I noticed her—a maid I didn’t recognize, standing just behind me. She was young, with a blank expression that sent a chill down my spine.
“Did you bring me here?” I asked, my voice unsteady.
She didn’t respond, just tilted her head slightly, as if amused by my confusion. Suddenly, her lips curved into a small, cold smile. “It’s time, Miss Lyra.”
Before I could react, she stepped behind me and shoved the wheelchair forward.
“Wait—no!” I screamed, my hands fumbling for the wheels, trying desperately to stop.
But it was too late.
The world spun as the chair tipped forward, and I was thrown down the stairs. Each step slammed into me, pain exploding across my body. I hit the ground hard, the air knocked out of my lungs. Everything was a blur—pain, fear, and the deafening sound of my heartbeat pounding in my ears.
I lay there, motionless, convinced this was the end. But then, as I stared at the ceiling, something strange happened. A warmth spread through me, starting in my chest and flowing outward. It wasn’t just comforting—it was powerful.
The pain faded almost instantly, replaced by a strange tingling sensation. I blinked in disbelief as I lifted my hand, watching it move effortlessly. Slowly, I sat up. My body felt... different. Stronger. I pushed myself up, fully expecting my legs to buckle beneath me.
But they didn’t.
I stood, my heart racing as I stared down at my perfectly steady legs. For a moment, I just stood there, overwhelmed by the impossible reality.
The sound of hurried footsteps snapped me out of my shock. I quickly dropped to my knees, pretending to struggle. The maid appeared at the top of the stairs, her eyes wide with disbelief.
“You’re... still alive?” she whispered, her voice shaking.
I groaned, clutching my side and pretending to be in pain. “Help me,” I rasped, playing the part of the injured woman she expected to see.
She didn’t move. Instead, she backed away, her face pale with fear. I watched as she disappeared down the hall, clearly panicked.
The next morning, I overheard Celeste in the study, her voice sharp and furious. I wheeled myself closer, staying just outside the door, listening.
“You were supposed to finish her!” Celeste snapped. “How does someone survive a fall like that? You said you’d take care of it.”
The maid’s voice trembled as she replied, “I don’t know what happened, Miss Celeste. I swear, she should’ve been—”
“Enough!” Celeste hissed. “Get out of my sight. You’re done here.”
A moment later, I heard the maid scurry out, her sobs echoing down the hall. I sat there, frozen, as the reality of it all sank in. Celeste had planned this. She had hired someone to kill me, and she wasn’t even trying to hide it.
I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms. I wanted to burst into that room, to scream at her, to tell her I knew everything. But I didn’t. Not yet. Instead, I turned my wheelchair and quietly left, keeping my expression neutral when I passed the staff.
Let her think I was still weak, still broken. Let her believe she had the upper hand. Because now, I had something she didn’t: the element of surprise.
