Lyra wept for a long time.
Kael said nothing. He only let her lean against him through the cold iron bars, his warmth seeping through despite the silver-threaded restraints that bound his wrists. In just two years, the once proud and brilliant Stormvale heir already had white streaking through his dark hair at the temples, and his scent—once vibrant with autumn forests and wild honey—had grown muted, suppressed by whatever they fed him in this iron-silver holding den.
Even after years of imprisonment, his voice to Lyra remained gentle. "Lyra, it's alright. Don't grieve because of me. Your life shouldn't be shackled to my fate."
He gently touched the scars on her wrist where she'd clawed at her own bonding mark in desperate moments, his amber eyes filling with pain. "Lyra, promise me. Don't hurt yourself anymore. Live well. I refuse to be the chain that drags you under."
"Three more moon-cycles. Wait for me three more moon-cycles. Don't beg anyone anymore because of me."
"You are the Stormvale's treasured daughter. If this territory brings you nothing but suffering, then leave it."
Lyra wept so hard she couldn't form a single word.
Fenris always claimed he loved her deeply. But her body was covered in wounds—torn bonding marks, bruises from forced claims, the lingering ache of heat-suppressant damage—and he never saw them. Yet if Selene had even the smallest complaint, he became consumed with anxiety, his Alpha instincts roaring to protect his precious Omega Scribe.
Lyra knew her brother spoke truth. She truly should leave. As she walked out through the holding den's gates, the sunlight was painfully bright against her tear-swollen eyes.
Selene sent her another message through the pack's communication stones. Since Selene had cut her hand slightly that morning—a theatrical accident during her scribe duties—Fenris had stayed by her side all day, his protective scent wrapped around her like a shield.
Lyra, do you see this? Someone who truly loves you will care even about the smallest things.
Fenris only feels guilt toward you—the obligation of a mate-bond he regrets. What he feels for me is true recognition. Our scents call to each other.
Lyra wept until her heart felt torn apart. So her brother's freedom was worth less than a shallow cut on Selene's palm.
"Fenris, you are truly cruel."
Today was the final day of the Moon-Count waiting period. Lyra went to the Council Hall and received the bond severance decree, the official seal burning cold against her fingertips.
She arranged passage through the border gates for that night. She would listen to her brother and leave completely. She would live her own life in Ironcrest, where Alaric had promised sanctuary.
That afternoon, just after she returned to the den they had shared, Fenris embraced her from behind, his Alpha scent flooding the room with false comfort.
"Lyra, I'm sorry about your brother. But Selene needs me. I cannot abandon her. She fell into a wasting despair because of your brother's crimes against her."
"If I reject her now, her condition will worsen. Lyra, everything I do is for the good of our bond. We are mated. Your brother committed a grave offense. I'll make amends for the Stormvale name."
Hearing his noble-sounding words, Lyra laughed with bitter scorn.
Make amends? The Stormvale bloodline was never at fault. What sin did they need to atone for? Her brother had never touched Selene—the scent evidence was fabricated, the testimony false.
Seeing Lyra's strange smile, Fenris continued, his voice dropping to that commanding Alpha register he used when he wanted compliance. "Lyra, I'll petition the Council again for your brother's case. In a few days, it will be your parents' memorial rite. I'll accompany you to honor them."
Lyra gently pushed him away. "No need."
When she needed him most—when she'd begged him to investigate, when she'd presented healer evidence of her own injuries, when she'd pleaded for him to simply listen—he wasn't there. Now, she didn't need him anymore.
Fenris's hand felt empty. So did the hollow place where their mate-bond should have resonated. Lyra was too calm after such devastating events. It frightened him in ways his Alpha pride refused to acknowledge.
Just as he moved to follow her, Selene's distress call echoed through their bond-link—the secondary connection he'd never severed despite his mating to Lyra. "Fenris, I dreamed of that night again. The attack. Can you come and stay with me? I need your scent to feel safe."
Fenris looked toward the stairs where Lyra's thin figure disappeared. Then he thought of Selene, trembling and alone. In the end, he chose Selene again.
"Lyra, something happened with Selene. I need to go. I'll return and stay with you after I settle her." Fenris left, his footsteps echoing through the empty den.
Lyra showed no reaction. She didn't need him anymore.
Before leaving, she wrote a letter on ceremonial pack-paper. She wrote about Selene's true nature—the manipulation, the lies, the way she'd orchestrated Kael's imprisonment to eliminate the Stormvale heir who'd rejected her advances. She didn't know if Fenris would believe it. She placed the bond severance decree on their bed.
Beside it, she laid the claim sigil Fenris had once commissioned at great cost—a moonstone ring carved with their intertwined house symbols.
Everything connected to him... she wanted none of it. So when Lyra departed, she took nothing except her identity tokens and the border-pass Alaric had secretly arranged.
When she reached the territory gate, Fenris sent her a message through the bond-echo: Lyra, you seemed unwell this afternoon. I promise, after tonight, I'll stay with you properly. We'll talk.
Lyra's lip curled. She no longer needed his presence. What she wanted was justice.
She severed the bond-echo connection with a sharp mental twist, feeling the last threads of their forced mating fray and snap. She erased the scent-memories she'd preserved, the ones she'd once treasured from their early days.
The border-runner's carriage rose into motion, carrying her toward Ironcrest's sanctuary.
Looking back at the territory that had once been her home—the Stormvale ancestral lands now controlled by Fenris's allies, the dens where she'd suffered in silence—she whispered to herself:
"Fenris, the pain you and Selene inflicted on me and my bloodline... I will repay it all."
"The next time we meet, we will be enemies."
As for her brother's case, she would find new evidence to prove his innocence—scent traces, healer ledgers, oath-echoes that would expose the lies. And then she would personally drag Selene before the Pack Council and watch her confess under a Truth-Howl!
