Chapter 25 Chapter 25

Chapter 25 Chapter 25
Lyra
The yacht docks just before dawn.
The horizon is still bruised with night, the sky pale and uncertain, as if even the sun hesitates to rise after what has happened aboard those walls of polished wood and quiet power. I stand near the railing, wrapped in Kael’s jacket, the scent of sea and him clinging to the fabric.
And beneath it—
Them.
I can still feel them on my skin, like echoes that refuse to fade.
Riven’s presence had been fire—wild, consuming, dangerous in the way storms are dangerous. Kael had been steadier, grounding, a slow burn that wrapped around my spine and held me together when my thoughts scattered.
Two wolves.
One human heart caught in between.
Kael doesn’t speak much on the drive home. His hand rests on my thigh the entire way, thumb brushing slow, reassuring circles through the fabric of my dress as the city slips past in muted lights. The silence isn’t cold—it’s heavy. Thoughtful.
When we arrive, he leans over and presses a kiss to my temple.
“Go shower,” he murmurs. “I’ll be back soon.”
I nod, too tired and too full of feeling to question it.
The bathroom fills with steam quickly, the heat wrapping around me like a second skin. I step under the water and close my eyes, letting it cascade over my hair, my shoulders, my chest.
The warmth loosens something inside me.
Memories surface uninvited.
The way candlelight flickered across strong hands and sharp jawlines. The low murmur of voices in the dark. The contrast between control and surrender, between familiarity and danger. The way the yacht rocked gently beneath us, as if the sea itself was complicit.
I press my palms to the tile, breathing deeply as the water washes over me.
I’m human now.
And yet… I have never felt more alive.
When I step out, my skin is flushed, my body humming with leftover sensation. I dry myself slowly, deliberately, as if savoring the fact that this body—this fragile, human form—still holds power.
Still inspires devotion.
Still ignites war.
I crawl into bed alone, the sheets cool against my skin. The absence of Kael beside me feels strange after the night we shared. My body sinks into the mattress, exhaustion finally claiming me.
Sleep comes quickly.
Too quickly.
I wake to the sound of strained breathing.
It’s faint, but unmistakable.
My eyes snap open, heart pounding as I sit up and scan the room. Kael stands near the dresser, shirt discarded, one hand pressed to his chest.
Blood stains his skin.
“Kael,” I gasp, scrambling out of bed.
He turns too quickly, grimacing. “Lyra—wait—”
I’m already at his side, hands shaking as I guide him to sit. My fingers come away red when I press against the wound, a deep slash across his chest, angry and fresh.
“What happened?” My voice cracks.
“The rival pack,” he says evenly, though pain flickers across his face. “They made a move.”
My chest tightens. “Because of me.”
He doesn’t deny it.
I grab the first aid kit with trembling hands, cleaning the wound as gently as I can. He hisses softly but doesn’t pull away. I work in silence, focused, methodical, refusing to let panic take over.
“You shouldn’t have gone alone,” I whisper.
He watches me closely. “I wasn’t alone. But they were waiting.”
When I finish bandaging him, my hands linger against his skin longer than necessary. The sight of him wounded—this powerful Alpha brought low—makes something fierce rise in me.
I help him to the kitchen, where morning light spills across the counters. He sits at the table while I make breakfast, my movements slower, more careful than usual.
We eat quietly.
My gaze keeps drifting to the blue stone on my finger. The ring catches the light, gleaming softly—a promise. A claim.
A complication.
“Kael,” I say finally.
“Yes, baby?” He looks up, blue eyes gentle despite the bruises shadowing his skin.
“I’m engaged to you.” My fingers curl around the mug in my hands. “So… what about Riven?”
He doesn’t react immediately. He spreads butter on his toast with deliberate calm.
“You can’t be engaged to two wolves at once,” he says simply.
I swallow.
“But I want you both,” I whisper, biting my lip before I can stop myself.
He finally looks at me then. Really looks at me.
“Really?” His tone is even, unreadable.
I nod slowly. “I’m drawn to both of you. Since day one.”
The room feels suddenly smaller.
Kael leans back in his chair, studying me like he’s reassessing a battlefield. There’s no anger in his expression—only calculation, curiosity, and something darker beneath.
“You’re human now,” he says quietly. “You know what that means.”
“It means I feel things more,” I reply. “Fear. Love. Want. I don’t have instincts guiding me anymore. Just truth.”
He exhales slowly.
“Riven is dangerous,” he says. “Not just to others. To you.”
“So are you,” I counter softly.
A corner of his mouth lifts. “Fair.”
Silence stretches between us, thick with unspoken implications. Outside, the world moves on—cars passing, birds calling—oblivious to the fragile balance inside this room.
Kael reaches across the table and takes my hand, thumb brushing over the ring.
“This path you’re asking for,” he says carefully, “will not be easy. There will be blood. Politics. War.”
“I know.”
“And you could lose us both.”
I meet his gaze, steady. “Or I could change everything.”
Something shifts in his eyes then. Respect. Wariness. Desire.
“You’re not prey,” he murmurs. “You never were.”
I squeeze his hand. “Then let me choose.”
He holds my gaze for a long moment before nodding once.
“Then we’ll see who survives the truth,” he says quietly.