Elara Thorne POV:
Ryker moved faster than I thought possible, a black-clad blur of rage. He was at Serena’s side in a heartbeat, gathering her limp form into his arms with a tenderness that was a dagger in my heart. His eyes, blazing with a golden fire, locked on the blood staining her robe, and a low, animalistic growl rumbled in his chest.
He looked up at me, and his face was the face of a stranger, a killer. “What did you do to her?” he snarled, the words vibrating with lethal intent.
I opened my mouth to defend myself, the truth a useless shield against his fury. “It wasn’t me… she did it herself…”
“Silence!” The words were a physical blow, a raw, deafening roar infused with the full power of his Alpha’s Command.
The command slammed into me, a spiritual hammer blow that buckled my knees and sent a shockwave of pain through my very soul. Lyra cried out within me, wounded and cowed by the authority of the mate who was supposed to protect her.
From the cradle of Ryker’s arms, Serena cracked open an eye, her face a perfect mask of tragic suffering. “Ryker, don’t… don’t blame my sister,” she whimpered, tears streaming down her cheeks. “She didn’t mean it… It’s my fault… I couldn’t protect our baby…”
Her words were gasoline on an open flame. Ryker’s rage exploded. He gently passed Serena to one of his guards who had just arrived, barking orders for them to get her to the clinic immediately.
Then he turned to me. He walked toward me slowly, each heavy footstep a drumbeat of doom, echoing the frantic pounding of my own heart.
“You are a monster,” he hissed, his voice low and shaking with hate. “Because I love her, you decided to murder our child?”
“I didn’t!” I finally screamed, the sound raw and desperate. “She’s lying to you! It’s all an act! You’re being played for a fool!”
A cold, mirthless laugh escaped his lips. “An act? Was the blood I saw an act? Was her pain an act?” He lunged forward, his hand clamping around my wrist like a manacle. His grip was crushing, and I felt the delicate bones grind together.
“I regret the day the Moon Goddess ever bound us,” he spat, his face inches from mine. “You are not fit to be a Luna. You are not fit to be my mate!”
That was it. The final, fatal blow. The words were a shard of ice driven straight into my heart, freezing everything inside me. The last vestiges of love, of hope, of any lingering affection, shattered and turned to dust.
I looked at this man, this stranger, his handsome face twisted by a lie, his eyes blind with rage, and all I felt was a vast, empty pity.
My expression must have changed, the pain and desperation draining away, leaving behind a hollow, lifeless calm. The shift seemed to infuriate him even more.
“As your Alpha,” he roared, his voice shaking the very foundations of the room, “I will have your submission! I will punish you for this!”
He unleashed his command again, but this time it was different. It wasn’t just pressure; it was a weapon, a targeted spiritual assault designed to break me.
“Kneel!”
My body betrayed me. I collapsed, my knees slamming hard onto the unforgiving marble floor. The pain was excruciating, but it was nothing compared to the agony ripping through my soul. The command didn't just strike my mind; it surged through the very bond that tied my soul to his, turning our connection into a channel for pure agony. His power, twisted by his rage, tore me apart from the inside, a betrayal so profound it felt like my own spirit was being shredded.
A sharp, cramping agony seized my abdomen, and I felt a sudden, warm gush between my legs.
Real blood. My blood.
But in the chaos of Serena’s staged drama, no one noticed.
I forced my head up, using the last of my strength to meet his blazing eyes. My voice was a dead, flat whisper, but it carried across the room with chilling clarity. “Ryker Blackwood,” I said. “You will live to regret this day.”
And with that, the world went black.
I saw him turn away from my crumpled form on the floor, a flicker of something—annoyance? confusion?—crossing his face before he smoothed it back into a mask of cold fury. He strode out of the villa without a backward glance, going to the side of the woman who had orchestrated my ruin.
I was left alone on the cold floor, a broken doll discarded after the game was over.
