Lyra's POV
The conversation with Ash had gutted me completely. Whatever fragile hope I'd been clinging to about keeping all my fated mates had crumbled to dust. I should have expected this. Happy endings weren't written in my stars.
When Monday morning arrived, I forced myself out of bed and dragged my broken spirit to training with Alaric. The gym felt eerily empty when I walked in. Both Xander and Ash were nowhere to be seen.
Alaric waited in the dim morning light, muscular arms folded across his broad chest. His sharp gaze immediately locked onto me, reading the exhaustion written across my features. Those golden eyes zeroed in on the purple shadows beneath my own.
"Are you sick?" His voice carried an unexpected gentleness.
I shook my head slowly. "Haven't been sleeping well."
"Is that all?"
