Lysera’s POV
“Lysera?”
I jerked awake in the hard chair beside the bed. Calder was looking at me, his blue eyes still weak but clear.
“Calder!” I gasped, rushing to him. I wanted to hold his hand, but the bandages around mine stopped me. Instead, I leaned forward and pressed my forehead to his arm.
“You are awake. Thank the Moon.”
He tried to sit up, wincing. “What happened? I remember… the memory. The sleeping draught.”
“It’s gone,” I said quickly, my voice firm. “All of it is gone, Calder. It was a false memory. A crafted illusion. The guild released a statement this morning. The guards confirmed it. You are a victim, not a criminal. The people support you again. They’re already calling your name with pride.”
Calder let out a shaky breath. He closed his eyes, a tear slipping down his cheek. “I thought it was over, Lysera. I cannot… I cannot lose this. My name, my work… it is all I have.”
“I know,” I whispered, brushing his hair gently. “I promise you, Calder. I swear on my life. It will not happen again. No one will ever harm you again, brother.”
The next morning, I returned home.
The manor was quiet. Ronan was at the council hall. I walked into the library and locked the door. From the back of a hidden chest, I took out an old communication crystal, one that could not be traced.
I called a number I had not used in years.
“Kaizen,” I said when the line opened.
“Luna Lysera,” the warm, steady voice of our old steward answered. He had served my parents, then me, until Ronan suggested replacing him with younger staff. But Kaizen had never truly left me. “It has been a long time.”
“I need your help, Kaizen,” I said without delay. “I need you to search. I want everything on the Melvere bloodline. Thorian, Thara, their parents. Debts, secrets, illegal trades. And I want everything linking Ronan to them. Gold transfers, land deeds, messages. Everything.”
“It will be done, Luna. Are you well?”
“No,” I said, touching the fading bruise on my cheek. “But I will be.”
For the next seven days, I played my role.
I became the perfect mate. I wore the gowns Ronan liked. I poured his drink when he returned. I smiled when he touched me, even when my skin felt cold. I asked about his day. I acted as if nothing had happened.
“See?” Ronan said one evening, pressing his lips to my neck as I arranged flowers, using my arms more than my hands. “This is better. No conflict. Just us.”
“Yes, Ronan,” I said smoothly. “Much better.”
“Good,” he replied. “Because I have something planned. Dinner tonight as a small celebration.”
“Celebration?”
“For us,” he said with a smile. “For moving forward.”
I wore the black silk gown he chose. I put on the diamond earrings he gave me. I looked like a prize.
When we entered the private dining room, my body went cold.
We were not alone.
Sitting at the table, holding a glass of red wine, was Thorian Melvere.
His arm rested in a sling, clearly for sympathy. He looked strong. Proud. He smiled when he saw me, his gaze slow and uncomfortable.
“Lysera,” he said lazily. “It has been a while.”
I stiffened and looked at Ronan. “You invited him?”
“We’re ending this conflict,” Ronan said, guiding me to sit. “Thara will join us soon. We will be one family again, Lysera. Peaceful.”
I sat down. I had no choice.
Dinner was torture. Thorian made crude remarks. Ronan laughed. They spoke of old memories while I stared at my plate, cutting my food with slow, painful effort.
“Excuse me,” I said during the meal. “I need to step away.”
I walked into the hallway, my heart racing. I splashed cold water on my face, trying to calm myself. I dried my skin and turned to leave.
Thorian stood in the doorway. He had locked it.
“You think you are above everyone, do you?” he said, stepping closer. His breath smelled of wine. “Acting like you didn’thing wrong after trying to ruin me. I only reacted because of you. It was for my sister.”
“Move,” I said quietly.
“Or what?” he laughed. “You will fight me with those broken hands?”
He rushed forward. He pushed me against the stone counter, his weight trapping me. His hand grabbed at my dress, tearing the fabric.
“No!” I cried. “Let me go!”
I could not use my hands. I could not push him away. I drove my knee upward into him.
He groaned but didn’t release me. He was too heavy. His mouth pressed against my neck. “You need to learn your place.”
“Ronan!” I screamed. “Help!”
The door shook. Then it opened.
It was not Ronan. It was Thara.
“Thorian!” she cried.
She ran toward us and grabbed his arm. “Stop! What are you doing?”
Thorian shoved her away in his anger.
Thara fell back. Her hip struck the edge of the stone counter with a sickening sound. She collapsed, crying out in pain.
Ronan appeared moments later. He looked at the scene. Me, shaken and pressed against the counter. Thorian standing there. Thara on the ground in pain.
He didn’t look at me. He ran to Thara.
“Thara!” he said, dropping to his knees. “Are you alright?”
“She pushed me!” Thara cried, pointing at me. “Lysera pushed me! She has lost her mind!”
“What?” I said in shock. “No! Thorian tried to force himself on me! She tried to stop him and he pushed her!”
Ronan looked at me. His eyes were filled with anger. He didn’t believe me.
“You…” he said slowly. “You bring nothing but harm.”
“Ronan, listen to me—”
“Leave my sight!” he roared. He lifted Thara into his arms, panic clear on his face. “Call the carriage! We’re going to the healer’s den now!”
They left me there.
My hands were throbbing. During the struggle, I had struck them against the stone. Fresh blood soaked through the bandages.
I took a carriage to the same healer’s den. I entered quietly, keeping my head down. A healer changed my bandages, shaking her head at the damage. Once she finished, I slipped away toward the private chambers.
I saw Ronan standing outside a room. He was speaking to a healer. I stayed hidden in a shadowed corner.
“Is she alright?” Ronan asked. His voice shook. I had never heard him like that.
“She has a light head injury,” the healer said. “But the scan is good. The heartbeat is strong. The pup is safe, Alpha Nightreaver.”
“Thank the Moon,” Ronan breathed, leaning against the wall. “And the gender? Can you tell?”
“Yes,” the healer said with a small smile. “It is a boy.”
“A boy,” Ronan whispered. “My pup. My heir.”
The healer walked away. Ronan pulled out his crystal.
“It is me,” he said quietly. “This situation cannot continue. Lysera is out of control. She almost killed my pup tonight.”
He paused, listening.
“No, I cannot simply break the bond. She knows too much. And with her brother’s influence… no. We need something final.”
My heart pounded hard in my chest.
“I will convince her to travel with me,” he said calmly. “Then I will end her life. Make it seem like an accident on the way to the sky port. A broken carriage. And do the same to Calder. I don’t want him asking questions after she’s gone. Everything will be clean.”
