Hera's POV
My heart broke as I stared at the test results in my shaking hands, my breath hitching as the pack doctor’s words echoed in my mind.
“This can’t be true,” I murmured, my voice barely above a whisper.
I sat outside Lyra’s hospital room, the cold chair beneath me doing little to steady the turmoil inside. How could this be possible? How could Lyra not be my daughter? I gave birth to her. She was mine. Every fiber of my being screamed that these results were wrong.
“Run the test again,” I demanded, trying to keep my voice steady, though it came out sharper than I intended.
The doctor hesitated, his sympathetic eyes unbearable. “Luna, we’ve already done it twice—”
“Then do it again!” I snapped, cutting him off.
While I waited, my gaze was locked on Lyra’s small, still figure lying unconscious on the hospital bed. She looked so pale, so fragile. The doctors couldn’t figure out why she had fallen sick so suddenly. None of it made sense.
When the doctor returned, his face was grim, and my heart sank. He handed me the new results, and they were the same.
“No,” I muttered, ripping the paper in half as anger and despair boiled over. “This isn’t true! This can’t be true!”
Desperate for answers, I stormed out of the hospital, heading straight to the pack house. If anyone could explain this madness, it was Rowan.
As I climbed the staircase, voices from the library stopped me in my tracks. One of them was Rowan’s, the other unmistakably Seina’s—her smug tone making my stomach churn.
I hesitated, then crept closer, the door slightly ajar. What I saw made my blood run cold. Rowan was sitting on the couch, Seina draped across his lap, her arms wrapped around his neck like a snake coiling its prey.
My nails dug into my palms as rage bubbled inside me, but before I could barge in, her next words stopped me dead.
“Baby,” Seina purred, her voice dripping with malice, “did you make sure your wife won’t find out Lyra isn’t her daughter? I heard that rogue child is in the hospital. Is the poison working? She has to die. Hera can’t find out she’s not the real mother.”
My breath hitched, and I slapped a hand over my mouth to stifle the gasp threatening to escape.
Rowan’s reply was worse than anything I could’ve imagined. “Don’t worry, my love,” he said, stroking her cheek. “The poison is slow, but it’s working. That child won’t survive the night. Hera will never know the truth—not about Lyra or her real daughter.”
My wolf howled in fury, her rage matching mine. Rowan and Seina had poisoned Lyra. My sweet, innocent Lyra. And worse, they spoke of my real daughter. If Lyra wasn’t mine, where was my child? What had they done to her?
I wanted to storm in and tear them apart, but I couldn’t. Not yet. I needed answers first.
The next few hours passed in a blur. I tried to stay calm, piecing together every shred of evidence, but my body betrayed me. I felt lightheaded, my limbs heavy. My mind raced back to earlier that evening when Rowan had ordered a servant to bring me milk. His unreadable gaze lingered as I drank it.
Moments later, I collapsed onto the bed, my world fading to black.
When I woke, my head throbbed, and my body felt weak. Rowan sat at my bedside, his expression grave.
“The hospital caught fire,” he said, his voice shaking. “Lyra… Lyra didn’t make it.”
His words struck me like a physical blow.
“No,” I whispered, shaking my head as tears blurred my vision. “No, that’s not true. You’re lying!”
“I’m not,” he insisted, gripping my shoulders as if to steady me. “The fire spread too fast. She was trapped, Hera. There was nothing anyone could do.”
I shoved him away, my anger flaring. “I need to see her!”
Ignoring his protests, I stumbled out of the pack house, my legs barely holding me up. When I reached the hospital, flames consumed the building, thick smoke billowing into the sky.
I dropped to my knees, staring at the destruction. “No,” I cried, my voice breaking. “Lyra…”
Rowan appeared behind me, his hand on my shoulder as if he shared my grief. His touch felt like a vice, suffocating and cold.
“I told you we should’ve kept her at home,” he murmured. “If only you had listened—”
“Don’t,” I snapped, turning to glare at him. My wolf snarled, her rage mirroring my own. “Don’t you dare blame me!”
He flinched but quickly recovered, his face a mask of false sorrow. “I only wanted to protect her.”
I turned away, bile rising in my throat. The milk. The sudden illness. The fire. It was all connected.
They thought they could break me, that I’d crumble under the weight of their lies. But they underestimated me.
I would find the truth—about Lyra, about my real daughter, about everything.
And when I did, Rowan and Seina would pay for every lie, every betrayal, and every life they’d taken.
