Chapter 72 Divorce
[Nyx]
His lips found mine again, hungry and demanding. I melted into the kiss, into him, feeling the heat build between us with every touch.
His hands slid down my sides, fingers tracing patterns that made me shiver. I arched into him, wanting more, needing—
My phone rang. The sharp trill cutting through the heated silence.
We both froze.
"Ignore it," Lysander said immediately, his voice rough against my lips.
It rang again. Insistent.
"It might be important," I said reluctantly, even as my body protested the interruption.
"It's not." His mouth moved to my neck, clearly trying to distract me.
The phone kept ringing.
I grabbed it. Symone.
"Hey—"
"Nyx!" Her voice came through sharp, urgent. "Are you alone right now? Can Lysander hear you?"
I glanced at Lysander. His amber eyes watched me, still heated but now curious.
"Um, not exactly—"
"Okay, you need to go somewhere he can't hear. Right now." There was controlled anger in her voice. "I have something you need to see before you talk to him."
My stomach dropped. "What happened?"
"Just—bathroom, closet, anywhere. But private. Trust me on this."
I looked at Lysander, who was watching with raised eyebrows.
"Girl emergency," I said lightly, sliding off the bed. "You know how it is."
I went to the bathroom, closing the door. "Okay, what's going on?"
"Check your messages. I'm sending photos now." Her voice was tight. "Yesterday afternoon, when you were knocked out—I went to check on you, and I saw her sneaking into your room."
Three photos appeared on my screen.
My blood ran cold.
"I didn't like that bitch from the first time I saw her," Symone continued, anger bleeding through every word. "Something about her just screamed trouble. So when I saw her going into your room, I knew something was wrong. And I was right—look at what she was doing."
Ice flooded my veins as I stared at the images.
"I mean, look—" Symone's voice shifted slightly, that familiar bitter tone creeping in. "I'm not saying he definitely did anything. Men are trash, but maybe he pushed her away. I don't know. But you were literally unconscious right there and she had her hands all over him, so..." She exhaled sharply. "I took the photos because I figured you'd want proof. Even if you decide to forgive him or whatever—at least now you know what kind of snake that Selene bitch is."
The timestamp glowed on the screen: Yesterday, 2:47 PM. While I was unconscious.
"Are you still there?" Symone asked. "Nyx?"
"Yeah," I said, my voice coming out cold. Deadly calm. "I'm here."
"What are you gonna do?"
"Handle it." The words came out flat.
"Ooh, I like that energy." I could hear the grin in her voice. "Give him hell, babe."
"Exactly."
"And Nyx? Whatever you decide to do—I've got your back. Always. That's what sisters do."
"I know. Thank you for telling me."
I ended the call.
Stared at the photos for another long moment. Let the fury build and sharpen into something cold and precise.
Then I opened the bathroom door.
Lysander looked up from the bed, that lazy smile starting to form. "Everything okay?"
I threw my phone at him.
Hard.
He caught it reflexively, eyes dropping to the screen.
His expression went dark. Jaw clenched tight, a muscle ticking dangerously.
"So." I leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed. "That's the kind of man you are. See someone with higher status walk in and you just can't help yourself, can you?"
He looked up slowly. His amber eyes had gone cold. Furious.
"An Alpha's daughter." I examined my nails casually, voice cold. "Then an Alpha's sister. Your ambition is written all over your face. Is that the plan? Fuck your way up the hierarchy one bloodline at a time?"
He moved.
Fast.
I barely had time to gasp before his hand slid behind my back, cushioning the impact as he pressed me against the wall, his other hand slamming beside my head.
"Say one more word," he said, his voice low and dangerous, "and I'll put you over my knee and spank your ass until you can't sit for a week."
I stared at him, genuinely shocked for a moment.
Then fury exploded.
"You think I'm flirting with you?" I snarled. "You dare—"
My fist flew toward his face.
He caught my wrist mid-swing, grip like iron.
"Let go of me!" I tried to punch with my other hand.
He caught that one too, pinning both wrists against the wall above my head with one hand.
"Listen to me." His face was inches from mine, voice hard. "I can stand here and tell you I pushed her away. I can swear nothing happened. But you won't believe me. So we're going to the hospital. Right now. And you're going to watch the security footage."
"I don't want to go anywhere with you!" I struggled against his grip. "Let go! I want a divorce! You hear me? A divorce!"
His eyes flashed. Then he released my wrists, turned away and grabbed the coat hanging by the door.
"I said let me—"
He threw the coat around my shoulders, then bent and scooped me up in his arms before I could process what was happening.
"Put me down!" I shoved at his chest. "Lysander! I said put me—"
He was already walking, carrying me toward the door.
"This is assault! I'll have you arrested! My father—"
"We're going to the hospital," he said flatly, not even looking at me. "You can file for divorce after you watch the footage."