Chapter 37 I Never Hated You
[Nyx]
I awoke to warmth surrounding me and the gentle splash of water. My eyes fluttered open, confusion giving way to realization as I found myself in the master bathroom, cradled in Lysander's arms in the large marble tub. Steam rose around us, the water scented with lavender bath oil.
"You're awake," he murmured, his chest rumbling against my back. "You fell asleep in the car on the way back. I carried you up, but you were covered in warehouse dust. I thought you'd want to be clean."
I should have been mortified—naked in his arms, vulnerable—but instead, I felt a strange sense of safety. His strong arms supported me as he carefully washed away the day's grime, one hand holding a soft cloth that he moved in gentle circles across my shoulders.
"Lysander..." I breathed, my voice still husky with sleep. I nuzzled against his chest, shifting to find a more comfortable position against his firm body. "That feels so good,"
"I could make you feel even better," he replied, his breath warm against my ear.
I felt his lips press softly against my neck, tentative at first, then with growing confidence as a small sigh escaped me. His hands, which had been respectfully clinical, began to move with more purpose—one sliding around my waist, the other tracing the curve of my collarbone.
"Is this okay?" he asked, his voice deeper than I'd ever heard it.
I nodded, unable to find words as his touch sent electricity coursing through my veins. He turned me gently in his arms until I faced him, water sloshing around us. His amber eyes had darkened to molten gold, pupils dilated with unmistakable desire.
When his mouth found mine, it was with a hunger that stole my breath. This kiss was different—possessive yet reverent, as though he'd been waiting an eternity for this moment. I felt the firm evidence of his arousal against my thigh, and a primal part of me responded with eager heat.
"Nyx," he breathed against my lips, one hand cradling my face. "I've wanted this—wanted you—for so long."
His confession unleashed something within me. I didn't want to think about consequences or complications. For once, I just wanted to feel. His hands mapped my body with increasing urgency, and I arched into his touch, surrendering to sensation.
Water cascaded around us as we moved together, the world narrowing to just this—his touch, his taste, the heat building between us that had nothing to do with the bathwater.
We eventually made our way to my bed, leaving a trail of water droplets across the marble floor. With careful strength, he laid me down, his body covering mine like a living shield against the world. Every touch, every kiss felt like a claim and a promise wrapped into one.
Afterward, wrapped in his arms, I finally surrendered to exhaustion, falling into a deep, dreamless sleep.
Morning came with insistent knocking, pulling me from peaceful slumber. I blinked awake, momentarily disoriented by the weight of Lysander's arm across my waist, the unfamiliar but pleasant ache in my body.
When I opened it, I froze in surprise. Lilith stood in the hallway, dressed in an elegant cream-colored dress that highlighted her fair complexion. Her blonde hair was styled in perfect waves, and she clutched a small travel bag in her manicured hands. Her expression was a strange mix of determination and vulnerability that I hadn't seen on my sister's face in years.
"Lilith?" I stepped back, allowing her into my room. "What are you doing here?"
She entered hesitantly, glancing around as if she'd never been in this wing before. Perhaps she hadn't—the rift between us had grown so deep over the years.
"I'm leaving today," she said, her voice steady despite the emotion swimming in her eyes. "To meet Damon Blackwood and his family. For the... gathering."
I closed the door behind her, still processing her presence in my space. "The gathering" was a delicate way of saying "arranged marriage meeting." The euphemism made it sound almost voluntary.
"I know," I replied, trying to keep my voice neutral. "Father mentioned it at breakfast."
"I wanted to say goodbye." Lilith's fingers tightened around the handle of her travel bag. "Properly. We might not get another chance."
My heart gave an unexpected twist. "What do you mean?"
She looked away, staring at the silver-framed photograph on my desk—one of the few I'd kept, showing Mother and me during a summer hunt. "If things go well with Damon and his family... I'll be joining Shadowcrest permanently. You know how these arrangements work."
I did know. Once a wolf joined another pack, visits to their birth family became formal affairs, strictly regulated by pack protocol. Especially between rival Alphas like Father and Damon.
"So this is goodbye," I said flatly, the reality sinking in.
Silence stretched between us, laden with years of unspoken words. We stood there, two sisters who had once shared secrets and dreams, now practically strangers despite the blood we shared.
"About what happened at breakfast that day," Lilith finally said, her voice softer now. "When I... when I said those things about Lysander."
I tensed automatically. The memory of her public declaration of feelings for my now-husband was still raw.
"It was stupid," she continued, surprising me. "I thought I was in love with him, but I wasn't. Not really."
"What changed?" I asked cautiously.
Lilith smiled, her cheeks dimpling sweetly, and I felt that familiar rush of protectiveness I hadn't allowed myself to feel in years. "You know, I've admired Lysander since we were children. I was only seven when I first saw him training in the yard, already so disciplined and focused."
My stomach clenched with an emotion I didn't want to name. "You never mentioned this until that breakfast morning."
"How could I?" She cast a quick glance at Lysander, who stood quietly by the window. "Every time reports came back about his victories at the border, every time Father praised his tactical mind or fighting skills, my admiration only grew. The other girls at school would gossip about celebrities, but all I could think about was the warrior who fought for our pack."
Lysander cleared his throat, finally breaking his silence. "Lilith, I'm honored by your words, but I think we both know I was never the perfect hero you imagined."
"No," Lilith agreed, a genuine smile forming. "You're not perfect. But you are honorable and loyal, and that's why you belong with my sister." She turned back to me. "Nyx has always been the stronger one—smarter, fiercer. She challenges you in ways I never could. I see that now."
I stood frozen, surprised by her candor.
"You two complement each other," Lilith continued, her voice softening. "I was too blinded by my own feelings to see it before, but you're good for each other. My strong, stubborn sister finally has someone worthy of standing beside her."
"Lilith—" I began, not knowing how to respond. "I'm sorry I've been such a terrible sister," I found myself saying, the words emerging before I could stop them. "Even after Isla wrongfully accused me of all those things... I shouldn't have pushed you away. That wasn't fair to you."