Chapter 67 A Little Self Care
Lyra rode all the way home with her thighs wet and her face flushed.
The road was beginning to thin ahead of her as she got closer to home. The hum of the bike was almost soothing, but her thoughts were anything but calm.
Her body still remembered the lake, the cold, the way Ryker had held her. The way he had touched her—not as her Alpha, but as her mate and her husband, as if he still knew her better than anyone else ever could.
She hated that her skin still reacted to him the way it did.
She hated that her body felt sore in that dull, lingering way that came from being overwhelmed by his ferocity. She hated that she was still warm even though the night air was cold. And most of all, she hated how badly she wanted to get away from him and still hold him at the same time.
“Arggggh," she groaned out loud, speeding up.
By the time she reached the ironFangs, it was beginning to get dark. She got off her bike and didn't bother parking it.
She headed straight to the Alpha quarters, her cheeks were burning, not from the heat, but from embarrassment. She climbed the porch steps without looking back, as if Ryker might still be right behind her.
She reached for her keys and just then, a voice in her head made her stop.
“Little half-breed.”
Lyra froze.
Her body locked in place as if something inside her had snapped shut. Her fingers stiffened around the metal key. Her breath stopped halfway into her lungs.
The wind brushed her back and she could hear the distant sounds of the pack members as they went about. Everything around her continued as normal.
Except her.
She couldn’t move. Her heart began to hammer violently in her chest.
“Are you running from me?” the voice asked calmly, echoing inside her mind.
Her throat tightened as she felt cold invisible fingers wrap around her neck.
Lyra gasped, her chest burning as she struggled for air that wouldn’t come. There was no one in front of her.
And yet she was shaking, her knees trembling, her vision blurring at the edges.
The Blood King was getting even more intense. He didn't need to wait for her to dream anymore. He was getting bold and accessing her mind easily.
“Have you been avoiding me?" He hissed slowly, his voice paralyzing her further in fear.
“I’ll come for you myself,” the Blood King whispered, his presence sliding closer, closer, until it felt like his mouth was right beside her ear. “Since you won't bring me what I want, I’ll take both of your bloods. And the ritual—”
“Lyra!”
A hand grabbed her arm and immediately, the pressure vanished.
Lyra sucked in a sharp breath, stumbling forward as the world snapped back into place. Her key nearly slipped from her fingers.
She was still on the porch. The door was still locked and her jacket was still draped loosely around her shoulders.
A pack member stood beside her, concerned. “Are you okay?” he asked carefully. “You looked like you spaced out.”
Lyra swallowed hard, forcing air into her lungs. “I’m fine,” she said quickly. Too quickly. “Just tired.”
“You just froze on the porch, I was wondering if you're okay."
She cleared her throat and plastered a smile on her face, hoping it didn't look so fake. "Thank you, I'm fine. Was just lost in thought.”
He studied her for another moment, clearly unconvinced, then nodded. “Good night, Luna.”
She nodded back, her movements stiff, and waited until he disappeared down the steps before sagging against the door.
Her heart was still racing.
He’s gone, she told herself. It’s just in your head.
She was too exhausted to even give it a second thought. Too drained to fear him tonight.
If all the Blood King ever did was haunt her thoughts, maybe, just maybe, she could survive that.
Lyra unlocked the door and stepped inside, locking it behind her with a soft click.
Home. She peeled off her jacket, then her boots, leaving a trail of discarded clothes as she moved deeper into the Alpha quarters.
By the time she reached the bathroom, her hands were trembling from the heat again.
She filled the tub and sank into it with a soft sigh, the cold soaking into her muscles, easing the ache she’d been carrying since the lake. The shivers slowly faded and her breathing steadied.
The burning restlessness inside her dulled, just a little.
“Heat,” she murmured, staring up at the ceiling.
How could something so natural feel like this? Everyone always said her skin was on fire, that she ran warm, that she glowed. But she didn’t feel like fire. She just felt jittery and unbalanced.
All she wanted was for her husband to touch her, to take that nagging feeling of emptiness away.
And today at the lake, she'd felt some fragment of relief for the first time since the heat began.
Her thoughts drifted before she could stop them.
Ryker’s hands.
The way he’d held her, the way his fingers moved inside her skillfully and speedily. Like he knew where to touch and the right things to say.
She squeezed her eyes shut as her body reacted despite her frustration, heat pooling between her already slick thighs.
“He didn’t even think about himself,” she whispered. “Not once.”
The memory made her chest tighten. She knew he was hard as rock and yet, he didn't take advantage of the situation. He'd only made her climax.
And goodness, the relief she’d felt had been instant. Like something inside her had finally silenced. Like he’d been the answer to a hunger she didn’t know how to name.
He was the medicine. And that was the cruelest part.
Because there was no way to make him touch her again, not like that. Not with how everything was so confused and broken between them.
Maybe the doctor would know more. Maybe there were rules she didn’t understand yet. Before, when she’d gone into heat, Ryker had been there. It had been simple. They were married and he made love to her until the heat subsided.
Now, with her hybrid blood and the distance between them, it felt like torture.
She leaned her head back, a soft sound escaping her as her body betrayed her thoughts, responding to memories she didn’t want but couldn’t escape.
She could almost see the nights he'd held her in their large bed, stroking her and promising her forever. His scent. His voice. The way he looked at her.
Lyra wasn't conscious when her hands drifted lower and she began to caress herself, imagining it was him. The bathroom was quiet except for the soft sounds of her moans and her uneven breathing.
She was so lost in the moment, so close to relief, that she didn’t hear the door open or his footsteps getting closer to the tub.
“That won’t help, Lyra.”
Her eyes flew open.
“Ah!” she cried out as the sensations overtook her and her body jolted violently.
Ryker stood there, looking down at her.