Chapter 41 A Father's Hurt
The moment the sorceress uttered those final words, Lyra knew she was done for.
Darius stared at her like she had spoken in riddles, ones he did not have the patience nor the sanity to decode.
His nostrils flared. “What do you mean she is reborn? Explain yourself, Olga!”
Olga lowered her eyelids slowly, her wrinkled hands still glowing faintly from the spell she’d just performed. “Alpha Darius, it's hard to explain, these matters require patience.”
“Patience?” Darius roared, his voice echoing through the courtyard loudly. “I paid you a shitload of money to bring me answers, not to recite silly old riddles! My daughter is missing and this doppelganger shows up and you ask me to be patient?”
Olga straightened her spine, unmoved by his fury. “The spirit world does not bend to your timelines, Alpha.”
“I don’t give a damn about the spirit world,” he snapped. His chest heaved wildly, veins pulsing at his temple. “I need answers. Now. Is this my daughter?!”
"This is just a yes or no question, Alpha.”
But Darius hissed under his breath and turned to her. “Do you know how much I love my little princess? Do you know how it hurts to see her strapped on that table even when I know she isn't really the one. She looks exactly like my daughter and I need answers!”
The sorceress took a slow breath and turned back to Lyra, who was still strapped to the iron table, trembling despite trying to hide it. Olga brushed her fingers through Lyra’s hair, then down her cheek. Lyra flinched at the cold touch.
“What did she use to dye her hair? What magic cloned this spy?"
“No amount of magic,” Olga murmured, “could replicate something so perfect. This is Irene’s body. Her blood, her bones, and her entire face.”
Lyra’s heart squeezed painfully.
“But the soul…” Olga continued. “The soul does not belong to her.”
Darius’s expression hardened dangerously as he stepped forward and grabbed Lyra’s chin in a brutal grip.
“What did you do to my daughter,” he snarled, “you little witch?”
Lyra’s breath hitched. “I didn’t do anything!”
“She is no witch,” Olga interjected firmly.
Darius rounded on her. “Then what is she? What kind of creature crawled into my daughter’s skin?!”
Lyra’s blood froze.
If they found out she was a vampire, even if it was half vampire, they wouldn’t just kill her. They would torture her. They would make an example of her. Half-breeds were unforgivable sins in both vampire and werewolf worlds. She was an abomination.
Olga’s eyes moved back to Lyra, studying her with a depth that made Lyra feel bare and stripped of all secrets. She could tell from the old woman’s face that she knew everything. The sorceress said nothing at first.
Darius exploded. “You are wasting my time, Olga! Tell me what this impostor has done to my daughter!”
Olga didn’t flinch. “Before I answer that, I must determine exactly what she is.”
She approached Lyra again, fingers glowing faintly. She sniffed the air around her, frowning. “She smells of werewolf blood, yet something else lurks beneath.”
Olga produced a thin silver blade from her sleeve and brought it closer to Lyra.
“No,” she whispered. “Please, stop!”
Olga did not wait. She sliced across Lyra’s arm, drawing a thin line of blood.
Lyra hissed in pain, biting back a cry. The steel burned her skin and she yelled out in pain. Silver always burned.
The sorceress placed her fingers over the cut, her mouth moving silently as she hummed a spell. The air vibrated softly and suddenly Olga staggered back, clutching her chest.
“This is impossible.”
Darius stepped toward her. “What now? What is impossible?”
Olga’s lips trembled, not in fear, but in confusion mingled with revulsion. “She is not a witch. That much is clear.”
“Then what is she?” he barked.
Olga lifted a trembling hand toward Lyra. “She is an abomination.”
Lyra’s eyes widened as she realized she had confirmed the truth.
“A creature that should not exist. She is a threat to all our kind. She must be destroyed at once!”
Lyra pulled against her restraints desperately.
Darius frowned deeply. “Didn’t you just say she's a werewolf? What do you mean she's to be destroyed? Speak clearly, Olga!”
The sorceress glared at Lyra as if looking upon the greatest disgrace she’d ever seen. “She is both a bloodsucker and a werewolf.”
A hush fell so deep Lyra could hear her heartbeat.
Olga’s voice dropped lower, harsher. “She is a half-breed.”
Lyra felt everything inside her collapse. Her secret was no longer hidden. Her chest tightened painfully as fear consumed her. The only reason this madman kept her alive was because of the likelihood that she was Irene. If Darius had doubted her before, now he would slaughter her without hesitation.
Darius recoiled as if struck. “A what?”
“A half-breed,” Olga repeated, louder this time.
“A half breed? How is that even possible?"
Olga shook her head and the look on her face was that of sheer shock. “In all my years of practice, never have I ever seen something like this. She is an unholy union between vampire and wolf. This is dark magic, a creature whose existence alone—”
“—is punishable by death,” Darius finished, his voice trembling with rage.
He unsheathed his sword in one smooth motion and growled.
“No bloodsucker abomination gets to keep my daughter’s precious body!”