chapter 146 Late-Night Operation
Lyra's POV
Living as Eric's supposed cousin had become a peculiar form of torment. For the past week, I'd been shadowing him everywhere, playing the role of a grateful distant relative seeking protection. The constant performance was exhausting, especially when all I wanted was to find Elena and hold her in my arms again.
Eric insisted I accompany him to every meeting, every meal, every official function. "For your own safety," he'd say with that gentle smile. It was probably genuine concern, but the constant supervision was suffocating.
As we walked back to his tent after dinner, I glanced toward the cluster of smaller shelters where Dorian's family quarters were located. Elena would be sleeping by now, probably curled up with that stuffed wolf she'd adopted. The fake Lyra would be there too, playing the perfect mother to my daughter.
The thought made my chest ache with a fierce, primal pain.
"You seem distracted tonight," Eric observed, his hand settling on my lower back in what anyone watching would consider a brotherly gesture.
"Just tired," I replied. "It's been an adjustment, living in a war camp."
"Of course. You've been through so much trauma. It's only natural that you'd need time to recover."
We reached his tent, and Eric held the entrance flap open for me. "Get some rest. Tomorrow we'll be moving to the forward positions. Dorian thinks the vampires are planning another assault."
I nodded, stepping inside the spacious shelter Eric had arranged for his "family." The main area contained his desk and strategy maps, while a partition separated my sleeping space from his.
After Eric retired to his own section, I waited. And waited. The camp gradually quieted as wolves settled into their night routines. Patrol changes happened. Guard shifts rotated. Still I waited, listening to Eric's breathing from beyond the partition.
Finally, after what felt like hours, his breathing deepened into the steady rhythm of sleep.
Now, my wolf urged. We have to try.
Moving with the stealth that came naturally to my wolf bloodline, I slipped from my bedroll and crept toward the tent entrance. The canvas whispered softly as I lifted the flap just enough to peer outside.
Two guards stood at distant posts, their attention focused on the camp perimeter rather than Eric's personal quarters. The path to Dorian's area was clear, shadowed by the bulk of the communications tent.
I slipped outside, keeping low and moving from shadow to shadow. My heart hammered against my ribs as I navigated the familiar layout of the camp. Everything looked different from this angle, wearing this face, carrying this false identity.
Dorian's command tent loomed ahead, larger than the others and marked with the Blackthorne family banner. But it was the smaller shelter beside it that drew me like a magnet. Elena's tent. The place where my daughter slept, probably dreaming innocent dreams while the adults around her played their dangerous games.
I was almost there when a hand fell heavily on my shoulder.
"Well, well. What do we have here?"
I spun around, my heart stopping as I found myself face to face with Caleb. His expression was hard, suspicious, and completely lacking in the warmth I'd grown accustomed to during our friendship.
"I..." I started, then caught myself. Caleb didn't know who I really was. To him, I was Eric's cousin, wearing Seraphina's face and skulking around the camp in the middle of the night.
"You're Eric's cousin, aren't you? The one from the Eastern Territories?"
I nodded, not trusting my voice. Caleb's eyes studied my face with unsettling intensity, and I realized with growing dread that he was seeing something I hadn't counted on.
"Funny thing," he continued. "You look exactly like Seraphina Crimson. And I mean exactly. Same bone structure, same facial features, even the same hair color."
Run, my wolf urged. He knows something's wrong.
But there was nowhere to go. Caleb stood between me and any escape route, and calling for help would only bring more attention I couldn't afford.
"I get that a lot," I said weakly. "Common features, I guess."
Caleb's expression darkened. "Don't insult my intelligence. I've known Seraphina since we were children. I've also seen what she did to Joey, how she manipulated and hurt people I care about."
His hand moved to the knife at his belt, and I realized with sick certainty that this conversation was about to take a very dangerous turn.
"And now here you are," he continued, "wearing her face, claiming to be Eric's cousin, sneaking around camp in the middle of the night. Care to explain that?"
I opened my mouth to speak, but no words came. How could I explain without revealing the truth about my changed appearance?
"I thought so," Caleb said grimly. "Guards! We have a security breach!"
His shout echoed across the camp, and I knew my brief taste of freedom was about to end. Whatever Eric's real motives for protecting me, they wouldn't extend to shielding me from legitimate security concerns.
As boots thundered toward us from multiple directions, Caleb's eyes never left my face. The fury there was personal, burning with old anger and fresh betrayal.
"I don't know how you survived that fall, Seraphina," he snarled. "But I'll make sure you face justice for what you've done."
He thinks we're Seraphina, my wolf whimpered. He really believes it.
The irony was bitter and complete. I'd escaped one prison only to walk directly into another.