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Lyra decided to go home after training to shower and make dinner for Lyle and Donovan. Donovan had, once again, spent most of the day at Megan’s, going over the journals, so she picked him up before heading to the house.
He rolled up the ramp ahead of her but froze at the porch.
“Hey, Lyr!” he called.
“What, Donnie?” she replied, grabbing a bag from the car so she could pack a few more things for the packhouse later.
“Is Dad home?”
She straightened, glancing around. “I don’t see his truck. Why?”
The question answered itself the moment she walked up the ramp and saw the front door hanging wide open.
“You closed it when you left today?” she asked, edging closer.
“Yeah,” he said with a nod. “Well, Dad did. He’s the one who dropped me off at the packhouse. I saw him lock it.”
“Maybe he came home,” she suggested, though it didn’t sound likely. “Forgot to close up behind him.”
“I’ll go in and check it out,” Donovan offered, moving closer to the door.
“Let me,” Lyra said, stepping in front of him. “I can defend myself if someone’s in there.”
“I can defend myself,” Donovan muttered, rolling his eyes.
She gave him a quick glance but still entered first.
She stopped just inside, her hand flying to her mouth with a sharp gasp.
The inside was wrecked. Couch cushions had been torn apart and thrown across the room. The couch itself was cut open, stuffing pulled out and strewn everywhere. The armchair looked the same. The coffee table was overturned, the television shattered. In the kitchen, all the cabinets stood open, every dish and food item thrown onto the floor. Flour and sugar coated everything in a fine white dust. The fridge and freezer hung wide open.
“Lyra?” Donovan called from the doorway.
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She turned to see him just inside, staring at the destruction. Down the hall, more chaos. Clothes and books scattered across the floor.
“Just wait there,” she said. “You won’t be able to get through all this stuff anyway.”
She moved down the hall, checking each room. All were the same. Drawers pulled out, mattresses slashed and overturned, belongings flung everywhere. In Donovan’s room, the boxes of their mother’s things had been dumped out. Some of her keepsakes were broken. Pictures had been torn.
Who would do this?
She reached out to her dad through the mindlink. Then she tried Russ, since lake and Callan were still outside the pack and unreachable.
Slowly, she made her way back to the front. Donovan straightened when he saw her, his face tight with worry.
“Lyra?”
Only then did she realize she was crying. Her hands were trembling.
“Let’s wait outside.”
She sat on the porch swing, knees drawn to her chest, while Donovan rolled forward to watch the driveway.
“Was it bad?” he whispered.
She nodded. “It’s all destroyed. Everything.”
Donovan looked at her, frowning. “They were looking for something, right?”
She chewed her lip. “Probably.”
“The journals?”
She sighed. “Most likely.”
They sat in silence until the familiar roar of Lyle’s truck broke the stillness. He tore down the driveway, barely braking before jumping out.
“Are you both okay?” he asked, rushing up
the ramp.
“We’re fine, Dad,” Lyra said quietly. “We came home to this.”
He glanced at the door, then back at them before stepping inside. Lyra rubbed at her eyes as
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another car pulled into the drive. Russ climbed out, looking calmer than Lyle, but not by much.
“Hey, guys,” he said, approaching the porch. His gaze went to the open door. “How bad?”
“Bad bad,” Lyra replied.
Lyle appeared in the doorway, fists clenched, his face red with fury. She could feel it radiating
off him.
“They were looking for the journals, weren’t they?” he asked.
“That’s what we think.”
“Can I look?” Russ asked Lyle.
Lyle nodded, motioning for him to pass before coming over to sit beside Lyra on the swing.
“It’s not safe here, Lyra,” Lyle murmured. “I told you it wasn’t.”
“I wish you could tell me more,” she whispered, leaning her head against his shoulder.
“Me too, LyrBear.” He squeezed her fingers gently.
Russ returned to the doorway, face tight, eyes dark. “Who the hell did this?”
“Had to be Drew or Christian,” Donovan said, staring out at the trees. “They’re the ones Jake mentioned the journals to. They’re the ones who don’t want us to know the truth about our
mom.”
Russ scrubbed a hand over his face. “Shit.” He pulled out his phone. “I’m calling Jake. Pack a bag, all of you. You’ll stay in the guest wing at the packhouse until this is sorted.”
**
Russ and Trisha got Donovan and Lyle settled into rooms on the guest floor of the packhouse while Megan had dinner brought up from the dining hall. They ate together in the sitting room on the guest floor, but it was getting late.
Lyra decided to lay down, not sure if Jake was back yet or not. She had spoken to him on the phone and he had been livid, promising to figure things out as soon as he got back. She headed to his room to wait for him, relieved that he had given her a key to his room the other day so she could come and go as she pleased.
The elevator doors opened and she was halfway to Jake’s room, when she heard voices. Jake’s office door was cracked open and she heard her name. She froze. She shouldn’t eavesdrop. She knew that. But she could hear Christian’s familiar clipped tone and
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something in her gut told her to stop.
“You’re acting like a pup chasing after his first crush,” Christian said, voice sharp.
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“She’s my mate,” Jake growled. “Not a crush. Not a passing fling. She’s the one the Goddess
chose for me.”
“That bond isn’t a license to lose your head,” Drew cut in. “It’s not about what you feel, Jake. It’s about what this pack needs. And she’s not it.”
Lyra pressed closer to the door, heart hammering.
uilding,”
ace in this
“She’s more than enough for me. And she’s stronger than half the wolves i Jake snapped. “She’s been through hell and back. She didn’t come asking pack. She didn’t ask for this bond. But she’s shown more loyalty to me in a week than either of you have in years.
Christian gave a dry chuckle. “Careful, pup. You forget who raised you, who trained this role.”
you for
“I’ve forgotten nothing,” Jake hissed. “I remember every time you told me I wasn’t enough. That I needed to prove I could lead. But the moment I make a decision you don’t like, suddenly I’m unfit?”
“You are reckless,” Drew said. “Look at what you’ve done. Spending pack funds on ramps, modified doors…”
“Donovan is my mate’s brother.”
“And not a wolf,” Christian said flatly “Your Luna is supposed to be an example, a pillar of strength. Not a charity project dragging along human baggage.”
A chair scraped back. Jake must have stood. “Call him that again,” he said quietly, and we’ll see how strong you are.”
Lyra swallowed a gasp, the raw edge of his voice making her blood chill.
“Threats now?” Drew asked, mockingly. “Is that where we are?”
“I’m not threatening. I’m promising. You don’t get to speak about her family like that.”
“You’re thinking with your d**k, not your head,” Drew snapped. “You’re impulsive and this whole pack is going to suffer for it. You haven’t even marked her.”
Another pause. Jake’s voice came quieter this time. “That’s not your business.”
“It is when our Alpha refuses to take the most basic step of claiming his mate. What are you
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waiting for?” Drew challenged. “Afraid she’s still going to leave? Or maybe you know she’s not what your pack needs? Maybe even you don’t fully trust her.”
“That’s enough!” Jake’s voice sounded like thunder.
Christian’s voice was low, cool and controlled. “You are gambling with all of our lives. The witches are watching. They’ve already threatened the pack if Lyra and her brother stay. What happens when they act on that? What happens when Donova can’t defend himself and she brings hellfire down on all of us?”
“You think sending her away will keep us safe?” Jake scoffed. “You want to bend the knee to some witches to keep the peace. Since when do we let others threaten ou over?”
nd just roll
“We think cutting out a rotten limb saves the body,” Drew said simply. “Even if it hurts.”
Silence followed.
When Jake finally spoke again, his voice was cold. “You may have taught me how to lead, but I’ve seen what kind of leader you are. Controlling. Fearful. Willing to throw away good people to preserve power and adhere to archaic traditions.”
“You’re making a mistake,” Christian said.
“No,” Jake replied. “You did. The day you made it clear you’d never accept her, no matter what she does.”
Lyra felt sick. Her hands trembled as she backed away from the door, retreating down the hall before they could catch her listening. All she could hear was Christian’s words, ringing in her head.
Cutting out a rotten limbs saves the body. Even if it hurts.
They would never accept her. Not truly. No matter what Jakes said, no matter how fiercely he defended her, people would always see her a liability. A wound to excised.
She needed answers. Real answers.
She needed to talk to the witch. Even if that meant keeping it from Jake.
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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.
