The silence in the grand dining room was a crushing weight, broken only by the gentle clinking of cutlery being laid out by a servant. Kael stood frozen in the doorway, his golden eyes locked onto Lyrana's bruised and exhausted face, seeing the full horror of what his lie had caused.
Queen Anya finally cleared her throat, her amber eyes flicking between her rigid son and the trembling girl. "Kael, dear, don't just stand there like a sentinel. Come greet our guests. This is Elara, a very old friend, and her granddaughter, Lyrana."
Kael moved on instinct, forcing his features into a neutral, aristocratic mask. He walked slowly to the table, his powerful presence making the air crackle.
"A pleasure, Grandmother Elara," Kael said, his voice surprisingly deep and respectful to the blind woman. He then turned to Lyrana. He extended a large, impeccably manicured hand. "Miss Aquamarine. Welcome to our home."
Lyrana met his gaze, her own eyes blazing with cold fire. She placed her uninjured hand into his for the briefest, most formal touch. "Prince Kael. Thank you for your family's kindness."
The exchange was flawless, polite, distant, and utterly devoid of recognition. Both were experts at wearing masks, but the sheer effort of the deception made Lyrana's injured arm throb anew.
They settled for lunch. The conversation flowed easily between the King, Queen Anya, and Elara, covering old friends and political landscapes. Lyrana picked listlessly at the opulent food, acutely aware of the searing intensity of Kael's gaze.
He couldn't look away. Every time she glanced up, his eyes were locked on her, not with contempt, but with a mixture of raw guilt and suffocating possessiveness. He saw the faint purple bruises near her collarbone, the way she favored her side, the tightness around her mouth. He was counting every injury his pack had inflicted.
Finally, as dessert was served, Queen Anya turned to Kael. "Kael, I need some uninterrupted time with Elara. Why don't you be a good host and give Lyrana a tour of the grounds? You are both young people; I am sure you have... shared interests."
Lyrana immediately protested, "Oh, please, no. I'm fine, Queen Anya. I should stay with my grandmother."
"Nonsense, dear," Anya insisted gently. "The King and I are keeping an eye on her. Go. Enjoy the sun."
Kael didn't wait for further refusal. He rose, his eyes conveying a silent order to follow. "Come, Miss Aquamarine. The gardens are vast."
Lyrana had no choice. She excused herself, feeling the King and Queen's curious gazes follow them as Kael steered her out of the dining room and down a quiet, long hallway toward the secluded wing of the manor.
They walked in agonizing silence until they reached a secluded, high-walled hedge maze. Kael stopped abruptly, spinning around to face her.
"I need to know…" he began, his voice rough.
Lyrana didn't let him finish. All the pain, the humiliation, and the crushed hope of the last two days erupted in a single, desperate torrent.
"Don't you dare!" she hissed, tears instantly welling up. "Don't you dare pretend to care or be confused!"
She dropped, using her uninjured right arm, lashed out, hitting his massive chest with a furious, clumsy punch.
"You betrayed me!" she choked out, hitting him again and again, the blows harmless against his muscle, but delivered with the full weight of her emotional agony.
"You fed me soup! You held my books! You made me believe you were better than them, and then you sent those animals after me! You let me be vulnerable, and you used it! Just so you could prove your disgusting Alpha pride!"
Her voice broke into ragged sobs, and she slid against his chest, her strength completely gone.
Kael let her strike him, absorbing every pathetic blow. He didn't flinch. When her strength finally gave out, he gently let his massive arms come around her, pulling her close, not with force, but with a surprising, desperate tenderness.
"I didn't," he whispered into her hair, his voice thick with genuine, raw pain. "Lyrana, I swear to the moon, I did not send them."
He held her close, letting her cry into his collar, feeling her trembling body against his.
"Tell me," she pleaded, muffled against his shirt. "Tell me the truth, Kael."
Kael pulled back just enough to look her in the eyes, his golden gaze sincere and full of self-loathing.
"I called you my prey to protect you from Rhys and the others," he confessed, the admission costing him everything.
"I said I owned you because I knew they wouldn't touch something I claimed. I thought I was protecting you from them while I tormented you myself. But I lied to Rhys yesterday. I lied to him and said I despised you to stop the pack's questions."
His grip on her tightened slightly.
"Rhys heard the lie. He took my words, my disgusted reaction to you, as a direct command to 'clean up the distraction.' I was angry at myself, Lyrana, not at you. I... I never meant for them to hurt you."
His thumb gently brushed the faint bruise near her eye. "I broke your arm, and then they did that. It was my fault. All of it."
His confession was so raw, so stripped of the Alpha arrogance she was used to, that Lyrana's rage instantly dissolved into confusion and a profound sense of shared vulnerability.
The coldness in his eyes had been a mask, and the guilt was the real thing.
He was the Crown Prince, and he was heartbroken over her pain.
The distance between them, of species, of wealth, of power, felt irrelevant. Only the intense, impossible tension remained.
Kael's gaze dropped to her lips, then back to her eyes, asking a silent, devastating question. He slowly leaned in, his lips brushing hers with a feather-light touch, testing the air.
Lyrana didn't pull away. She reached up with her good hand, cupping his jaw, and pressed herself fully against him, seeking the comfort his strength offered.
Kael answered the unspoken need. He deepened the kiss immediately, pouring all his guilt, his desire, and his terrifying, forbidden affection into the embrace.
His lips were demanding, passionate, and seeking to erase the pain his world had inflicted. It was a deep, searing connection that left no doubt about the powerful, magnetic attraction that had simmered beneath the weeks of cruelty.
He finally pulled back, resting his forehead against hers, both of them breathing hard, shattered by the kiss.
Kael's voice was rough, choked with emotion.
"Gods, Lyrana... tell me how you are. Tell me everything they did."
He pulled her into his arms, holding her gently, protectively, the Alpha's fury replaced by a profound, earth-shaking tenderness. He was no longer her enemy. He was her wounded, devastatingly powerful protector.