Lysera’s POV
“What?” Ronan let out a sharp laugh, the sound echoing against the stone walls of the healer’s den. “You are asking me to break our mate bond? Have you lost your mind?”
He stepped away from the door and moved back to my bedside, standing over me.
“Lysera, look at you,” he said, pointing at my wrapped hands, the glowing healing runes, the broken woman lying on the bed. “You are in shock. Your spirit is shaken. You are not thinking clearly. What will you do after this? Tell me. You lost your hands. You lost your gift. Without me, without the Nightreaver and Melvere bloodlines… you will be nothing.”
His words were meant to crush me. To remind me of where I came from. The orphan girl taken in by a pack. The gifted one who rose too high and fell.
But instead of breaking me, they only made my resolve stronger.
“I would rather be nothing than stay bound to a coward,” I said softly.
Ronan’s jaw tightened. “I am not a coward. I am being practical. You cannot survive alone like this. You need care. You need resources for recovery. Do you truly think you can go through a bond severance while learning how to hold a spoon again?”
He leaned closer, his face near mine. “Think about it, Lysera. Truly think. Or go ahead and leave me. Try it. See how far you get without my support.”
He didn’t mean wealth. He meant power.
I looked at him, silence stretching between us like a drawn blade. He expected me to break. He expected tears, pleas, surrender.
When I said nothing, he sighed and straightened, adjusting his sleeves.
“Let’s not speak of this again,” he said, brushing it aside. “You are emotional. It is the herbs. Rest and think about it later. For me.”
Before I could reply, the door opened.
Thara walked in. She wore soft-colored robes and carried a bundle of moon lilies, my least favorite flower.
“Lysera,” she said softly. Her gaze fell on my hands, and she let out a broken sob. “Oh… I am so sorry.”
I turned my face away, staring at the stone wall.
“I know you hate me,” Thara continued, her voice shaking. “I know you hate Thorian. And you have every reason. He… he’s not well, Lysera. He never meant to destroy your life. I will pay for everything. The healing rituals, the recovery. I will sell my belongings. I will do anything. Just… please don’t destroy him.”
“Leave,” I whispered.
“Lysera!” Ronan snapped, his voice sharp. “She’s trying to make peace. Show some mercy.”
“Mercy?” I turned back to them, my eyes burning. “Her brother attacked me, Ronan. And you ask me for mercy?”
“She’s my closest ally,” Ronan said, his voice dropping low. “And she stands here humbling herself. You will listen.”
He moved behind Thara and placed a hand on her shoulder, protective. The sight was clear. The two of them standing together against me.
“Fine,” I said, the word bitter on my tongue. “I am listening.”
“I only want you to understand,” Thara said, wiping her tears. “We can fix this. We can move forward. If you just… if you agree not to bring this before the council, we can deal with Thorian quietly. We can send him to a private healing place. He doesn’t belong in the dungeons, Lysera. He’s family.”
Ronan looked at me, his eyes urging me, reminding me of his warning. You will be nothing.
I needed time. I needed to leave this place. I needed to be careful.
“Alright,” I said, lying. “I will not bring the case.”
Relief filled the room. Ronan’s shoulders relaxed. Thara let out a light laugh and reached to touch my arm.
“Thank you,” she said quickly. “Thank you, Lysera. You are too kind. Truly.”
“We should go,” Ronan said, glancing at the time. “She needs to rest. We will return tomorrow and handle your release.”
“Rest well, Lysera,” Thara added.
They walked out together. I watched through the small gap of the door. As they moved down the corridor, I saw Ronan’s hand slide to her lower back. I saw her lean into him.
I waited until their steps faded.
Then I forced myself to sit up. I used my elbows to move the crystal communicator on the table. It was slow. It was humiliating. But I managed to activate the voice spell.
“Call Alistair Rydell,” I ordered.
The crystal pulsed. Once. Twice.
Alistair Rydell…
The only Alpha in another territory who had ever defeated Ronan before the council. Their rivalry was fierce, almost like war.
“This is Rydell,” a deep voice answered.
“Alpha Rydell,” I said, my voice steady despite the pain. “This is Healer Lysera Nightreaver.”
There was a pause. “Luna Nightreaver? Ronan’s mate? What brings you to me? Is your mate seeking to finalize the pack alliance?”
“No,” I said. “I want to hire you. Attempted murder. Violent assault. Severe injury. Thorian Melvere.”
“Why come to me?” Alistair asked. “Your mate is the strongest speaker in the council. Why seek his rival?”
“Because he will not stand for me,” I said, staring at my wrapped hands. “He’s protecting them. So I need someone who will not.”
“I see,” Alistair replied. His tone changed, sharp and dangerous. “Well, Luna Nightreaver… I have waited a long time for a chance to bring Ronan down. I will come to you at dawn.”
Two days later, I was released.
A young healer helped me outside where a black carriage waited. Ronan was not there. He had sent a message saying he was occupied with pack matters. Most likely, he was with Thara again.
I didn’t care. I had the documents Alistair prepared hidden in my bag.
As the driver opened the door, my crystal rang. I struggled to answer with my bandaged fingers.
“Luna Lysera!”
It was Kael, Calder’s handler. He was shouting.
“It’s over. Calder is finished.”
“What?” I froze. “Kael, slow down.”
“A memory shard was spread,” he said, panic clear in his voice. “It shows him striking a woman. Using dark powder. It is false, Luna, but no one believes it. The guild cast him out. The royal sponsors abandoned him. Everyone calls him a monster.”
My blood turned cold. My brother was the pride of our bloodline. He would never harm anyone. “That cannot be true.”
“He could not bear it,” Kael cried. “I found him in his chamber. An empty vial of sleeping draught.”
The world stopped.
“He tried to end his life, Luna. He’s in the critical ward.”
