Chapter 23 TWENTY TWO
(NYRA'S POV)
Something is off.
I can't put my finger on it, but I know something is off with the woman standing before me, claiming to be my mother.
She looks exactly like her, mind you. But there's just something that doesn't add up.
I mean I wasn't really preparing for her arrival, or how I would feel if it turned out she was alive. But this shouldn't be how I feel.
Nothing really.
No excitement, no nostalgia and definitely no recognition.
The face might seem the same, but I just know something is off. She looks… older, thinner but it’s her. Just the aura’s off.
The same sharp cheekbones. The same storm-gray eyes that I see every time I look in the mirror. Her hair—darker now, streaked with silver—is pulled back neatly, but there’s no mistaking her.
Isolde.
My mother.
For a split second, no one moves.
Then Lyric loses her ever-loving mind. “NY…THAT’S…THAT’S HER…OH GODS…”
My doubts fade. Lyric has always been able to sense my mom's wolf ever since I was six and shifted. If something was wrong, she'd have sensed it
My legs feel like they’re made of glass. If Lucien hadn’t shifted closer, his presence steady and solid at my side, I might have collapsed.
“Mom?” The word comes out broken. Small. Nothing like the fierce, sarcastic voice I usually have.
Her gaze snaps to me.
And the look on her face—gods, that look—steals the rest of the air from my lungs.
Shock, relief, guilt, longing, and fear. All of it crashes together as her eyes fill with tears.
“Nyra…” she whispers, like she’s afraid saying my name too loudly will make me disappear.
Kade goes utterly still. Riven’s jaw tightens. Even Lucien straightens from the window, his shadows reacting to the surge of emotion in the room.
Keiran, however, remains infuriatingly calm.
“Isolde Cullen,” he says evenly. “Former Luna of the White Moon pack, mate to the Dark Alpha, and mother to the Lunar Heir.”
My mother flinches at the title.
“I never wanted this,” she says quickly, eyes never leaving me. “Nyra, I…”
“Stop.” The word rips out of me sharper than intended. I take a step forward before I even realize I’m moving. “Just…stop. Because if you say one more thing without explaining everything, I might actually scream.”
Silence.
Then she nods slowly. “That’s fair.”
Zoya clears her throat awkwardly and backs toward the door. “I’ll… uh… be outside.”
The door shuts behind her.
It’s just us now.
“Are you alive?” I ask quietly, hating how stupid the question sounds, hating even more that I need the answer. I'm seeing her in front of me, but I still need clarification. You can't blame me after she's been dead for almost half of my life.
A sad smile curves her lips. “Very much so.”
“Did you fake your death?”
“Yes.”
“Did you let me believe you were gone for years?”
Her eyes close. “Yes.”
My vision blurs.
I laugh.
It comes out sharp and hysterical. “Wow, okay! Great. Fantastic. You know, here I was thinking the Dark Alpha was the biggest liar in my life, but congratulations, you’re really giving him competition.”
“Nyra,” Riven says gently.
“No.” I shake my head, tears spilling over now. “No, I need to say this. I deserve to say this.”
Lucien doesn’t stop me. He doesn’t touch me. He just watches, alert, ready if I fall apart.
“You know what I did?” I say, staring at her. “I mourned you. I buried you in my heart because I didn’t even have a grave. I cried alone in the shadows because Jackson would beat me each time he found me crying. I survived hell thinking I was alone. And now you just… walk in?”
“I was protecting you,” she whispers.
“From what?” I snap. “Because it sure as hell wasn’t pain.”
Her shoulders sag. “From him.”
The word doesn’t need a name.
“He would’ve found you,” she continues. “If he knew I’d borne his child…if he knew you existed…he would’ve torn the world apart to claim you. I broke the bond, Nyra. I hid. I married Jonas because he was strong enough to shield us for a time.”
“And when that failed?” I ask softly.
“I ran again,” she says. “I became a ghost.”
Keiran finally speaks. “Xorus knows now.”
She nods. “Yes.”
“And he’s coming,” he adds.
Her gaze flicks to Lucien, then to the others. “I know.”
I swallow hard, my chest aching. “Then why come back?”
She steps forward slowly, stopping a few feet away from me. “Because he used you as a warning. And because no matter how many mistakes I’ve made…” Her voice breaks. “I will not let him take my daughter.”
Something in me cracks.
Something fragile and dangerous all the same.
“I don’t trust you,” I say honestly.
“I wouldn’t expect you to.”
“But,” I continue, straightening, power humming faintly under my skin, “if Xorus thinks he can use either of us like pieces on a board…”
Lucien’s shadows stir.
“…then he’s made a very big mistake.”
My mother looks at me then—not as a child, not as something to be protected—but as an equal.
As the Lunar Heir.
And for the first time, I realize something chilling.
This war?
It was never just about me.
It was about us.
\~~~
“Something's off with her," I tell Lucien and Riven as I try to focus my magic on rearranging the shelf like Lucien asked. He said I needed to learn how to control things, make them do my bidding without a word or hand wave.
That's what led me to the library with Riven and Lucien, both staring at me like I'm their favorite meal.
“What do you mean?" Riven asks, lighting a cigar and taking a drag. “She's Isolde, is she not?"
“Yes, but something is just not right. Her entire personality is off," I try explaining. I don't know if they believe me and frankly I don't care. I just needed to share what was on my mind.
I can't really explain what it is that doesn't feel right, but I just know that something is wrong and I'll find out.
Lucien's phone rings. He checks the caller and glances at me. “Keep practicing. I'll be back." With that he's gone.
After almost an hour, the shelf finally snaps into place.
Every book aligns perfectly, spines straightened like obedient soldiers.
I exhale slowly, sweat prickling at the back of my neck. “Okay… yeah. I’m officially a badass.”
Riven snorts from where he’s lounging against a table, cigar between his fingers. “Don’t let it go to your head, princess. Power like that has a habit of biting back.”
“Something’s off with her,” I say suddenly.
Riven lifts a brow. “We’re back to that?”
“Yes, we’re back to that.” I turn to face him fully, frustration buzzing under my skin. “I know what she looks like, I know what Lyric sensed, but my gut? My gut is screaming something's off.”
Riven takes another drag, smoke curling lazily. “She’s Isolde Cullen. Your mother, former Luna, mate to the Dark Alpha.”
“And she doesn’t feel like my mother,” I snap. “Not her energy. Not her reactions. Not her presence. It’s like… like she’s wearing my mom’s skin but forgot how to live inside it.”
Riven studies me more closely now, humor fading. “You’re saying she’s a fake?”
“I don’t know,” I admit. “But something is wrong. Her personality is off. Too careful. Too rehearsed. My mother used to be fire. Sharp. She laughed loudly. She fought harder. This woman feels… muted.”
Silence stretches.
Riven finally exhales smoke toward the ceiling. “You should’ve told everyone about this.”
“I will. I just needed to say it out loud first.” I turn back to the shelf, trying another exercise Lucien gave me; rearranging by intent instead of order. “I’ll figure it out “
“That confidence,” Riven mutters, “is either going to save you or get you killed.”
Before I can retort, his phone buzzes.
He glances at it, frowns. “Lucien.”
I pause, magic flickering. “What’s wrong?”
“He says the wards on the east wing spiked. He’s checking it out.” Riven pockets the phone. “Told us to stay put.”
I grimace. “Oh, yay!”
We lapse into a quieter discussion—wards, illusions, old magic—when the air shifts.
It’s subtle, like a pressure change.
Lyric stiffens inside me.
My gaze follows movement behind the third shelf. I barely have time to register the glint of steel before instinct takes over.
“NYRA!”
The blade flashes.
Riven moves faster than thought. He shoves me back with one arm just as the knife drives forward, straight into his chest.
Blood blooms dark and fast against his shirt.
“Riven!” I scream.
He grunts, teeth gritting as he grabs the attacker’s wrist and slams them into the nearest shelf. Books explode outward, magic flaring as the illusion collapses.
The assassin snarls, yanking free, already retreating back into shadows.
“No you don’t!” Rage detonates in me.
Power surges.
The attacker screams as the darkness rejects them, spitting them back into the room like a curse.
I step forward, eyes blazing silver. “Who sent you?”
They laugh, blood on their teeth. “You’ll never know.”
Their body goes limp.
Dead.
Just like that.
I whirl back to Riven, panic slamming into me. He’s on one knee now, hand pressed to his chest, blood seeping between his fingers.
“Oh gods! No, no, no, no, no!” I drop beside him, hands shaking. “You idiot! You absolute, reckless…why would you take that for me?!”
He smirks weakly. “Because… I’m annoyingly heroic.”
“Don’t joke!” I snap, tears blurring my vision as I press my hands over the wound, magic spilling wildly. “Lucien’s going to kill you if you survive.”
Riven winces. “Fair.”
My magic flares brighter, responding to my fear, my fury.
And through it all, one horrifying thought crystallizes with terrifying clarity.
Someone breached Lucien’s wards.
Someone got inside, despite how untouchable Lucien's wards are. Despite the fact that he had them strengthened hours ago.
And suddenly, my earlier unease slams back into me twice as hard.
Because maybe, just maybe I wasn’t wrong about my mother at all.
A choking sound snaps me out of the daze and I turn to Riven. He raises his bloodied hands, towards my cheek, but they fall before they could make contact and he goes limp.