Chapter 27
+25 Points
Lyra’s heart pounded. She could still feel the press of Jake’s mouth on hers, still taste the blood where he’d bitten her. Her wrists ached where he’d pinned them above her head, but that pain was nothing compared to the emotional whiplash tearing through her.
Lyle’s voice broke through the fog. “He needs to leave.”
She looked at her father. His shoulders were squared, his jaw clenched tight.
Jake didn’t move. He stood firm, eyes locked on Lyle like he was ready for a fight.
“I’m not going anywhere,” he growled.
“This is my house…” Lyle began.
“No,” Lyra said quietly. Her voice was too soft, so she repeated it, louder. “No. We’re not doing this right now.”
“Lyra…”
“Dad.” She turned to him, forcing his eyes to meet hers. “You don’t get to throw him out like this. Not after what you just admitted.”
“I didn’t admit anything!” Lyle snapped. “I was silenced by my best friend. The same man responsible for the death of my mate and the maiming of my daughter! And now his son barges into my house and lays hands on you like you’re… like you’re his property!”
Jake flinched. Lyra felt it more than saw it.
She stepped between them, her voice trembling but firm. “I’m not saying what Jake did was okay. But this isn’t just about five minutes ago. This is bigger. You know that.”
A heavy silence fell, thick with all the things neither wanted to say.
Then a voice floated in from the hallway. “You all talk really loud, you know that?”
Donovan.
He wheeled himself to the doorway, face unreadable. His eyes flicked from Jake to Lyle before settling on Lyra. “I heard the whole thing.”
“Of course you did,” Lyle muttered, dragging a hand down his face.
“So let me get this straight,” Donovan said slowly. “The old Alpha muzzled you with a command so no one would know what Mom really was. Now the only way we can get to the
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truth is through Mom’s journals. And our current Alpha, and my sister’s mate, told his father
about them?”
Jake nodded, jaw tight. “It wasn’t on purpose. I didn’t know what they were.”
“Great,” Donovan said flatly. “So now he knows we’ve got evidence. That tracks.”
Lyra crossed her arms tightly, trying to slow her breathing. “We need to hide them. Somewhere no one would think to look.”
Lyle looked between them, clearly torn. “You can’t trust him,” he said, jerking his chin toward
Jake.
“I trust her,” Jake said quietly. “And she trusts me.”
Lyra’s stomach twisted. That was the problem, wasn’t it? She did trust him. Even after what he’d done, after the bruising kiss, the blood, the overwhelming heat of his fury. She should have been afraid. And she had been, for a moment. But not of him. Of what it meant.
“I’m not choosing sides,” she said finally, lifting her chin. “I love you, Dad. I always will. But Jake is my mate. I didn’t ask for that, and neither did he. But here we are.”
Her father’s jaw flexed, emotions flickering across his face too fast to track.
“Donovan, give me the ones you have,” she said. “I’ll find a place to hide them.”
Donovan chewed his bottom lip, eyeing her and then Jake. “I know you trust him. But I don’t.”
Jake didn’t speak. He didn’t need to. She could feel the tension rolling off him, frustration, but
also restraint.
Lyra groaned. “Fine. Then I’ll hide them myself. Jake won’t help. I won’t tell him where they
are.”
Donovan considered that. “Will you tell me? Will they be somewhere I can access?”
Lyra nodded. “Yes. I promise.”
“Okay,” Donovan said. “I’ll go get them.”
Lyle gave a short nod. “Fine,” he said, shooting Jake a warning look. “But if anything happens to my daughter because of you, I will burn this whole damn pack to the ground.”
The words hung heavy in the air as he walked away, his footsteps echoing down the hall.
Donovan lingered. “You okay?”
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She nodded, though it wasn’t true. “I will be.”
He gave Jake one last wary glance before slipping out of the room.
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Once they were alone, Jake moved toward her, hands raised slightly like he didn’t know if he should touch her. “Lyra…”
“Don’t,” she whispered, stepping back. “Not yet.”
He stopped, swallowing hard. “Okay.”
She crossed the room to the journal on the floor, the one she’d been reading before everything exploded. Her fingers brushed the cover, and a chill ran down her spine.
Whatever truth lay in those pages had cost her mother everything.
**
After putting the journals, eleven in total, in one of her old backpacks with Donovan’s help, Lyra convinced Jake to leave. He’d hesitated at the door, reaching toward her before pulling
back and vanishing into the trees.
She borrowed Lyle’s truck again, wondering if her car would ever be fixed, and drove to the only person she could think of who might help.
But when the elevator doors opened with a ding, it wasn’t Megan in the sitting room. It was
Callan.
She should’ve mindlinked first. Given Megan a heads–up. Asked her to make sure Callan wasn’t around. But she’d been too overwhelmed to think.
“Lyra?” Callan’s brows lifted. “Are you on the right floor?”
She stood just outside the elevator, twisting the backpack strap in her hands. “I came to see Megan.” The words tumbled out. “I know it’s late, but I needed to talk to her about something, and I realize I should have let her know I was coming, and I really hope she isn’t asleep and…”
“Lyra.” Callan crossed the room in a few strides. “Are you okay?”
He stopped in front of her, eyes scanning her face. Gently, he took her chin, tilting her head. His eyes moved from her lips to her throat, then over every bit of exposed skin. He took her hand and turned it over, revealing bruises she hadn’t even noticed.
“What the hell happened?” he whispered. “Did Jake do this?”
Lyra didn’t answer. She didn’t need to.
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“Fucker,” Callan snarled.
“Cal?”
125 Points
Megan appeared, barefoot and wearing a long nightgown. Her blonde hair hung loose around her shoulders.
“Lyra?” Concern laced her voice. “What happened?”
She hurried over and froze when she saw Lyra’s face. Callan still held her wrist, showing the
bruises.
“What the hell, Lyra?”
“Is it that bad?” Lyra asked softly. “I didn’t even look in the mirror before I left.”
“I’ll show you to the bathroom,” Callan said. “You clean up. I’ll make us some tea.”
“You don’t have to…”
He shrugged. “Meg likes tea before bed. Says it helps calm the baby.” He nudged her gently toward the bathroom.
Inside, Lyra stared at her reflection. Dried blood on her bottom lip. Bite marks on her neck. Her hair was a mess. Her wrists bore angry purple bruises.
She washed her face and finger–combed her hair before returning to the sitting room. Callan was setting three mugs down while Megan brought over a tin of tea bags. Lyra sat in one of the chairs, setting the backpack at her feet.
“Lyra,” Megan said gently, “do you want to talk about what happened?”
Lyra opened the tin, sorting through the tea bags so she didn’t have to look up. She picked a lavender chamomile, hoping it might settle her nerves.
“I’m not even entirely sure,” Lyra finally said, dropping the tea bag into the hot water. “Jake came over in a state, but he didn’t really explain anything.”
“He just did that?” Callan asked, raising an eyebrow and gesturing toward Lyra.
She sighed. “It looks worse than it was.”
“Don’t make excuses for him,” Callan snapped.
Lyra looked up, touched by his anger. “I’m not. He was on the verge of shifting again. The only reason the bites look so bad is because he had his fangs out. I doubt he even realized it.”
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“That’s the second time today he’s nearly shifted out of anger,” Callan muttered. “That’s… concerning.”
“It would’ve been fine…” She let out a heavy sigh. “Honestly, I wasn’t scared of him. I could tell he was upset. I knew he’d calm down. It was just… he barged into the house, didn’t even close the door. My dad came back, saw the way he was acting, and then…” She trailed off, her father’s admission still ringing in her ears.
Callan and Megan waited, silently giving her space.
“He and my dad argued. It wasn’t pleasant.”
“What were they arguing about?” Callan asked gently.
Lyra looked at him for a long moment. He resembled his father so much, it was hard to know how much she could trust him.
“It’s okay,” Megan said, reading her hesitation. “I trust Cal with my life. He’s not going to betray you. And I’ll cut his balls off if he does.”
Callan nodded. “She would. I don’t think it’s even a joke anymore.”
Lyra couldn’t help but smile. Slowly, she began to tell them everything, about her mother, how she wasn’t human, and the truth behind Christian’s betrayal. When she finally looked up, both Megan and Callan were completely still, watching her with unreadable expressions.
“So the journals,” Callan said eventually, “they’re what’s in the bag?”
Lyra nodded.
“And
you
need help hiding them?” Megan asked.
Another nod.
Callan and Megan exchanged a look.
“I have an idea,” Callan said.
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Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.
