Chapter 169 Purification

Chapter 169 Sister's Plea
Gabriel POV
 
In the chaos of the battle, I had felt death approaching. Kade had me pinned, his silver blade poised to strike, and I'd made peace with my fate. Then, something extraordinary happened.
 
Energy surged into me like a tidal wave, healing my wounds and filling me with renewed strength. I looked up to see Lyra lying amid the battlefield, her body illuminated with an ethereal glow as she commanded the very life force around her.
 
Malcolm and his council soldiers began retreating, their movements sluggish as though wading through molasses. I seized the opportunity, pinning Kade to the ground before he could escape.
 
"Don't let him escape," Lyra commanded, her voice carrying an authority that seemed to reverberate through the very air.
 
The battlefield fell silent as our enemies disappeared into the forest. Victory had been snatched from the jaws of defeat, but at what cost? The woman standing before me was Lyra, yet somehow different—power radiating from her in palpable waves.
 
"Gabriel," she called. "Take Kade and any others who couldn't escape to the holding cells. Keep them alive."
 
I nodded, both awed and concerned by the transformation. "Are you alright?"
 
"I will be," she assured me, though uncertainty lingered in her eyes. "Have someone clean up this mess and tend to the wounded."
 
As I led the prisoners away, I couldn't shake the feeling that something momentous had just occurred, something that would change everything.
 
---
 
In the holding cells beneath the pack house, I watched as Alistair secured the last of the captured council soldiers. The prisoners were unusually docile, their energy seemingly drained by whatever Lyra had done to them on the battlefield.
 
"That's the last one," Alistair reported, closing the reinforced cell door with a heavy clang.
 
I nodded, distracted. Through my mate bond with Lyra, I could feel waves of anger and pain radiating from her. Emotions so intense they made my own chest tighten in response. This wasn't just the aftermath of battle or relief at our victory. This was deeper, more personal, a burning rage directed at a specific target.
 
Dominic!
 
I realized with sudden clarity that Lyra must have regained her memories—all of them. On the battlefield, Lyra's gaze had transformed; it held a new depth, like that of someone who had suddenly lived through too much too quickly. The knowledge of what Dominic had done to her, the manipulation, the plans to use her as a breeding vessel, the orchestrated attack on Eliza... She remembered it all now, and that knowledge had ignited a fury unlike anything I'd felt from her before.
 
"Alpha?" Alistair's voice broke through my thoughts. "Are you alright?"
 
"Stay here," I ordered, already moving toward the exit. "Guard them with your life."
 
I followed the mate bond, letting it guide me through the pack house and toward the medical center. The pull grew stronger with each step, tinged with an energy that felt almost dangerous in its intensity.
 
She's going to kill him. And despite my own hatred for Dominic, despite the countless times I'd fantasized about ending the man's life myself, I knew I couldn't let Lyra cross that line. Not like this. Not consumed by rage and newly awakened power she barely understood.
 
---
 
Now, standing in Isabella's room with Lyra trembling in my embrace, I felt relief wash over me. I'd arrived in time. The darkness that had threatened to consume her was receding, leaving behind the woman I loved—still angry, still hurt, but herself again.
 
I held Lyra tightly, my arms encircling her like a shield against her own darkness. I breathed in her scent, hoping my presence would anchor her to reality as the murderous rage slowly ebbed from her body.
 
"This isn't you," I whispered again, my breath warming her hair.
 
I could feel the white wolf's energy still coursing through her, but it was changing, transforming from a weapon of destruction into something else—something cleaner and more purposeful. Her eyes cleared, and I watched as her gaze settled on Dominic, who was slumped against the wall, gasping for breath. Isabella hovered nearby, her eyes wide with fear, fear of the woman I loved.
 
The sight tore at my heart.
 
I loosened my embrace but kept my hands on her shoulders, searching her eyes for signs of the Lyra I knew. "Are you back with me now?"
 
She nodded slowly, her gaze drifting back to Dominic. The hatred was still there. I could feel it through our bond, burning like embers in her chest, but the blinding rage had subsided.
 
"I remember everything," she said softly. "Everything he did to me."
 
My expression darkened, but I kept my voice steady. "I know. And he deserves punishment for it. But not like this, not from you."
 
Dominic pushed himself to his feet, one hand massaging his throat where Lyra's invisible grip had nearly crushed his windpipe. "Thank you," he rasped, nodding to me.
 
My lip curled in disgust. "I didn't do it for you," I said coldly. "I did it for her."
 
Isabella moved cautiously toward us, her eyes fixed on Lyra. "Lyra, please... I know you're angry, and you have every right to be. But Dominic just saved my life. He brought reinforcements when we were being overwhelmed."
 
Lyra stared at her sister—her twin in appearance if not in blood—and through our bond, I felt her complicated mix of emotions. Love, protectiveness, and a deep sadness for what Isabella had endured.
 
"Bella, I remember everything," Lyra said quietly. "This asshole... he deserves to rot in prison for what he did to me, for what he planned to do."
 
Isabella's eyes filled with tears. "Please, sis? Just let him go."
 
I felt Lyra's internal struggle through our bond—the battle between vengeance and mercy, between her own pain and her sister's plea. The tension in her shoulders remained, but something in her expression softened as she looked at Isabella.
 
"Fine," Lyra said, her voice tight with restraint. "For your sake, I won't kill him or throw him in prison. But I want him gone, Isabella. He stays away from you and from me—permanently."
 
She turned to Dominic, her eyes flashing with that dangerous white light again. "You know what I can do now. You just saw it. So you'd better listen carefully."
 
Dominic's face contorted with pain. "You might as well kill me," he mumbled, his voice barely audible. "If I can't be with her—"
 
"Don't say that!" Isabella interrupted, her voice breaking. "My sister is sparing your life! Just go, please!"
 
I watched Dominic carefully, noting the desperation on his face as he looked at Isabella. It was genuine—the same look I'd seen in my own reflection when I thought I might lose Lyra. Despite everything, despite all the manipulation and cruelty, he truly loved Isabella.
 
Lyra must have noticed it too. Her brow furrowed as she studied him, sensing something that made her hesitate.
 
"It's decided," she finally declared. "You will stay away from me and my sister." She took a step toward him, her hand outstretched. "But before you go, there's one more thing I need to do."
 
I stiffened, suddenly understanding her intention.