Chapter 84 Reckoning
[Nyx]
"Alpha Blackwood." Dr. Harrison nodded. "Thank you for coming quickly."
His gaze swept over me and Lysander. "Miss Verdant. Gamma Crowley."
Then back to the reports in his hands.
"I need to discuss Miss Lilith's toxicology results with you. There are... significant concerns."
He pulled out the top sheet—the one marked with red warning stamps.
"The blood work shows the presence of Ceftriaxone—a broad-spectrum antibiotic. It was administered approximately two hours ago."
Dr. Harrison continued, his voice clinical but tight with controlled anger. "According to Miss Lilith's medical records, she has a documented severe allergy to this medication. The dosage detected in her system would be lethal for someone with her allergy profile."
I knew it.
Deep down, I'd known from the moment I saw Selene in that room.
Dr. Harrison pulled out another sheet. "Furthermore, at the time this antibiotic was administered, Miss Lilith's vital signs were completely stable. Temperature normal. No elevated white blood cell count. No infection markers whatsoever."
His jaw clenched. "There was absolutely no medical indication for antibiotic intervention. None."
"So someone injected her with a lethal substance she's allergic to," I said flatly, "when there was no medical reason to give her anything at all."
"That's correct, Miss Verdant."
Cold rage settled over me like ice.
Not surprise. Not shock.
Just cold, crystalline clarity.
Selene had tried to murder my sister. The medical evidence proved it beyond any doubt.
"The security footage shows Selene entering Lilith's room alone," I said, looking at Damon. "At the exact time this medication was administered."
My voice was steady. Controlled.
But inside, my wolf was howling for blood.
---
Damon stood frozen. His face had gone from ashen to something worse—hollow. Empty.
Like everything inside him had just shattered.
"What are you going to do with her?" My voice cut through the silence.
He looked at me. For a long moment, he said nothing.
Then he pulled out his phone.
"Bruce." His voice came out flat. Dead. "Send two Gamma warriors to the holding cells. Immediately."
He paused.
"Maximum security confinement. Twenty-four-hour watch. No visitors. No exceptions."
"Yes, Alpha."
He hung up. Turned to face the empty doorway where his sister had been dragged through just minutes ago.
"I'll have her brought to the main holding facility," he said quietly. "Formal charges will be filed within the hour. Attempted murder."
He's choosing justice.
The thought surprised me.
I'd expected him to try to protect her. To find some way to minimize what she'd done.
But he wasn't.
He was treating her like any other criminal.
"When Lilith wakes up," Damon continued, voice still flat, "when we have her testimony about what happened during the avalanche... I'll personally deliver Selene to Moonblade for judgment."
He looked at me then. Really looked at me.
"Your father will want justice. He deserves it. And so does Lilith."
I studied his face. This broken, betrayed Alpha who'd just lost his sister to her own madness.
"We'll discuss it then," I said finally. "When Lilith is awake and safe."
---
We left Shadowcrest territory just after midnight.
Damon had arranged a private car to take us to his family's airstrip. A jet waited there—sleek, black, ready to take us wherever we needed to go.
"It's the least I can do," he'd said when I protested. His voice was still hollow. "After what happened on my territory. Under my protection."
I didn't argue further.
The jet's cabin was quiet. Plush leather seats, dim lighting. Just me and Lysander in the enclosed space.
I collapsed into a seat, exhaustion crashing over me in waves.
"You did well tonight." Lysander sat beside me, his hand finding mine. "Stood your ground. Protected Lilith. Got justice."
"It's not over." I closed my eyes. "Not until she wakes up."
"She will." His thumb traced circles on my palm. "Dr. Harrison said her vitals are improving. The antihistamines are working. She's fighting her way back."
My sister. My brave, foolish sister.
"Thank you," I said quietly, opening my eyes to meet his gaze. "For having my back. For standing up to Damon. For... everything."
"Always." His voice was soft. Fierce. "I'll always have your back, Nyx. That's what mates do."
But we weren't really mates yet, were we?
Not in the way that mattered.
The plane began its descent.
---
The hotel suite Damon had arranged for us was in the city center—close to the hospital where Lilith was recovering. He'd insisted on covering all expenses until she was stable enough to travel.
Guilt money, probably.
But I wasn't too proud to accept it.
The suite was luxurious. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city lights. A massive bed covered in white linens. Everything clean and impersonal.
I headed straight for the bathroom.
I needed to wash away the hospital smell. The fear. The lingering adrenaline.
The hot water felt like absolution. I stood under the spray until my skin turned pink, until some of the tension finally drained from my shoulders.
When I emerged—wrapped in a towel, hair damp—Lysander was waiting.
He'd changed into sleep pants. Nothing else. Just those gray eyes watching me with an intensity that made my breath catch.
"Feel better?" His voice was low.
"Getting there."
I moved toward the closet, reaching for the hotel robe.
"Nyx."
Something in his tone made me pause. Turn.
He was smiling. Just slightly. A hint of amusement in those serious eyes.
"What?"
"You remember our bet?" He pushed off the dresser, moving closer. "About whether I'd been unfaithful?"
My stomach did a strange flip.
Oh.
That.
"The investigation proved I was clean." He stopped just in front of me, close enough that I could feel his body heat. "Which means you lost."
Heat flooded my face.
"And you always keep your promises, don't you?"
My wolf stirred, interest piqued.
He's claiming his prize.
I lifted my chin, meeting his eyes. "I keep my promises."
My hands went to the towel. Let it drop.
His eyes flashed gold.
---
What followed was a lesson in control.
Lysander's control, specifically.
His hands moved over me—slow, deliberate, maddeningly gentle. Every touch designed to build heat without giving release.
"On your knees."
The command was soft but absolute.
I obeyed.
The carpet was plush beneath my knees. I was eye-level with the waistband of his sleep pants now, watching the obvious evidence of his arousal strain against the fabric.
His hand slid into my hair. Not pulling. Just... holding.
"You remember what you promised?"
I nodded.
"Say it."