"Stay away from me, Lyra."
The words lingered long after Kael disappeared into the shadows.
Lyra sat there, frozen on the forest floor, her breath uneven, her body still trembling from everything that had just happened.
From the attack.
From the fear.
From him.
The night felt different now—quieter, heavier, as if the forest itself was holding its breath.
Slowly, painfully, Lyra pushed herself up.
A sharp sting shot through her arm where the rogue had clawed her. She hissed softly, pressing her hand against the wound. Blood still seeped through her fingers, warm and sticky.
But that wasn't what made her chest tighten.
It was the bond.
Still there.
Still alive.
Still… him.
Lyra closed her eyes, her hand drifting to her chest again.
"I don't understand…" she whispered.
He rejected her.
He said the words.
He meant them.
So why—
Why did she still feel him?
Why could she still sense the steady, powerful rhythm of his heartbeat?
Why did his presence linger like something carved into her soul?
Her wolf stirred faintly again.
Mate.
Lyra shook her head sharply. "No."
Her voice broke this time.
"No… he doesn't want us."
Silence answered her.
But the bond pulsed again.
Soft.
Persistent.
Refusing to disappear.
Tears burned her eyes, but she forced them back, swallowing hard.
She wouldn't cry.
Not for him.
Not again.
Taking a shaky breath, she forced herself to stand fully, ignoring the protest from her injured body.
She needed to leave.
Needed to get as far away from him—from all of this—as possible.
Because staying…
Staying would destroy her.
By the time Lyra reached the small house at the edge of the pack grounds, the first hints of dawn were creeping into the sky.
Her legs felt like they might give out at any second.
Every step had been a battle.
Every breath a reminder that she was still alive when she shouldn't be.
The door creaked softly as she pushed it open.
Inside, everything was quiet.
Too quiet.
"Lyra?"
Her mother's voice came from the other room, laced with worry.
Lyra froze.
For a moment, she considered turning around.
Leaving.
Disappearing before she had to explain anything.
But she was too tired.
Too broken.
"I'm here," she called softly.
Footsteps hurried toward her, and a second later, her mother appeared in the doorway.
Then stopped.
Her eyes widened.
"Oh my goddess… Lyra, what happened to you?"
Lyra tried to smile.
It didn't quite work.
"I'm fine," she said automatically.
She wasn't.
Not even close.
Her mother rushed forward, gently taking her arm before hissing at the sight of the wound.
"This is not fine," she said firmly, guiding Lyra inside. "Sit down."
Lyra didn't argue.
She didn't have the energy to.
As she sank onto the chair, exhaustion finally began to take over, pulling at her like a heavy weight.
Her mother moved quickly, cleaning the wound with careful hands.
"Rogues?" she asked quietly.
Lyra nodded.
A pause.
Then—
"And the ceremony?"
The question hung in the air.
Heavy.
Inevitable.
Lyra's chest tightened.
For a moment, she said nothing.
Then, softly—
"He rejected me."
Her mother's hands stilled.
The silence that followed was suffocating.
"I see," she said after a moment, her voice carefully neutral.
Too neutral.
Lyra looked down, her fingers curling in her lap.
"You don't have to pretend," she murmured. "I know what this means."
Her mother didn't respond immediately.
Because they both knew.
A rejected mate was seen as weak.
Unwanted.
A flaw.
Something to be pitied at best… and avoided at worst.
Lyra swallowed hard.
"I'll leave," she said suddenly.
Her mother's head snapped up. "What?"
"I'll go," Lyra continued, forcing the words out before she could stop herself. "It's better this way. For everyone."
"Lyra—"
"I'm serious," she said, looking up now. "I don't belong here anymore."
The words hurt.
But they were true.
She had felt it in the way the pack looked at her.
In the whispers.
In the laughter.
She would never be more than the girl the Alpha rejected.
And she refused to live like that.
Her mother stared at her, pain flickering across her face.
"This is your home," she said softly.
"Not anymore."
The bond pulsed again.
Sharp.
Painful.
Lyra flinched slightly.
Her mother noticed.
"What is it?"
Lyra hesitated.
Then shook her head.
"Nothing."
She couldn't explain it.
Didn't even understand it herself.
How could she tell her that the mate bond—the thing that was supposed to be broken—was still there?
That she could still feel him?
That part of her still belonged to him, no matter how much she tried to deny it?
No.
It was better to keep that to herself.
Her mother studied her for a long moment, then sighed softly.
"If you leave… there's no coming back easily," she said.
Lyra nodded.
"I know."
"And you'll be alone."
"I already am."
The words slipped out before she could stop them.
Silence followed.
Heavy.
Uncomfortable.
Then her mother reached out, gently cupping her face.
"You are not alone," she said firmly. "Not as long as I'm here."
Lyra's throat tightened.
But she didn't cry.
Not this time.
"I'll be okay," she said instead.
It wasn't true.
But it was easier than the truth.
Miles away, Kael stood at the edge of the forest once more.
Watching.
Waiting.
The early morning light stretched across the land, but it did nothing to ease the tension coiled inside him.
He could still feel her.
Faint now.
But there.
Alive.
Safe.
His jaw clenched.
He shouldn't be here.
Shouldn't be this close.
Shouldn't be thinking about her at all.
But his feet had brought him here anyway.
His wolf was restless.
Unsettled.
Mate.
Kael closed his eyes briefly.
"No," he muttered.
But the word held no strength.
Because the truth was—
He had felt her fear.
Her pain.
Her desperation.
And he had gone to her without thinking.
Without hesitation.
Without control.
That was the problem.
That was exactly what he couldn't afford.
Because if he lost control…
If he gave in…
Everyone would pay the price.
The prophecy echoed in his mind, cold and unrelenting.
The Alpha who claims his true mate will drown his pack in blood.
Kael's hands curled into fists.
He had done the right thing.
He had to believe that.
Rejecting her was the only way to protect his people.
The only way to stop the future from becoming reality.
So why—
Why did it feel like everything was already falling apart?
His gaze shifted toward the small house in the distance.
Toward her.
A flicker of something dangerous passed through his chest.
Something that felt too much like regret.
Too much like longing.
Too much like—
No.
Kael turned away sharply.
He couldn't think like that.
Couldn't allow himself to want something he could never have.
"Stay away from her," he told himself quietly.
It was a command.
A warning.
A promise.
One he wasn't sure he could keep.
Because no matter how far she went…
No matter how much he tried to push her away…
The bond remained.
Unbroken.
And that meant one thing.
This was far from over.