Lyra's POV
I stood outside Damon's house, my hands clenched so tightly my nails bit into my palms.
Cold night air brushed across my skin, but I barely felt it. My entire body burned with a heat that had nothing to do with the weather.
Your mate.
The words replayed in my mind like a curse.
Over and over.
Relentless.
Your mate.
He hadn't said it quietly. He hadn't hesitated.
He had said it with certainty.
With finality.
Selene was his mate.
Not just a Crescent refugee he had decided to shelter out of mercy.
Not just a political complication the pack needed to handle carefully.
Not just a wounded stranger he'd felt responsible for.
His mate.
The thought twisted like a knife inside my chest.
I had given everything to this pack.
Everything.
I trained until my muscles tore and my bones screamed.
I fought battles that should have killed me.
I spilled blood for the Blackthorn pack without hesitation.
