Chapter 64 Memories Soaked Wet
Staring at Dax riding away wasn't going to solve all her life problems, Lyra realized. And as soon as she did, she got back on her bike and rode eastward.
There was a bridge, and right after that bridge was the last place she wanted to be on earth.
But once, it had been her safe place, and on autopilot, she was heading there.
The road curved gently as Lyra sloped down the old bridge, but she didn't slow down.
She knew these roads like the back of her palm. She'd even ridden some of the paths into creation herself. But she didn't do that alone. He was always with her.
He was supposed to be her best friend. Now, the thought of him left a bitter taste in her mouth.
Lyra shook her head as if to dissipate the thoughts, and she didn’t stop until the trees slowly appeared at the edge of the forest.
A small bush came into view, and Lyra guided the bike beneath the cover of a few low branches and killed the engine.
She swung her leg over and stood there, staring at nothing.
“What’s wrong with Dax?” she muttered aloud. “There are a million women out there. He could have anyone.”
She frowned deeply. “Why does it have to be me?”
She sank down onto a fallen log, elbows on her knees, staring at the dusty ground. Dax had risked his life for her without hesitation. She knew that.
He’d walked into death like it was nothing if it meant pulling her back. That wasn’t something she could write off. That wasn’t casual.
And those kisses, goodness. She squeezed her eyes shut.
They were sweet, soft, and gentle. The kind that made your knees tremble and forced you to forget the world for a moment.
But as much as she hated to admit it, she didn’t want sweet.
She wanted fire. She wanted rough hands and domineering kisses and the kind of love that burned and bruised and made her feel claimed and protected.
She wanted Ryker.
And yet, that same husband had looked at her like she was something dangerous, something filthy. He had practically called her a whore and watched her walk away in tears.
Her chest tightened.
“He doesn’t love me,” she whispered. Saying it out loud made it feel more real. “Stopping the rejection ceremony was stupid. You can’t force a man to love you.”
She pushed to her feet and walked toward the lake, her steps slowing as the scent of water hit her.
The memories came before she could stop them, flooding her senses. She closed her eyes, but it didn’t help. Even standing a few feet away from the shoreline, her hands began to shake.
Pain shot behind her eyes as she moved closer, each step becoming harder than the last.
“Why am I here?” she whispered, her voice trembling.
But she already knew the answer. She was standing at the place where her life had ended. The place where Cassian had drowned her.
“I want closure,” she murmured, wrapping her arms around herself.
She had almost come here the other night. Almost. But the vampires had intercepted her path, and Rex and Dax had ended up rescuing her, as usual.
Now she was alone.
She kicked off her boots, setting them neatly aside. Then she shrugged out of her leather jacket and unzipped her skirt, folding both carefully and placing them on a dry rock.
She didn’t want them wet when she drove back.
Standing there in nothing but her lacy thong and bra, the cool air brushed against her skin. She hesitated only a second before stepping into the lake.
The cold hit her, and she almost jerked away. But by sheer will, she moved deeper.
She gasped as the water moved to her ankles, then her calves, the chill biting deep, covering her up slowly. With each step, the horrible memories clung to her like the water itself, seeping into her bones.
Tears began to stream freely down her chin.
Cassian’s face rose in her mind, clear as day. Her best friend, her shadow. He had been there when Ryker wouldn’t let her ride, claiming it was too dangerous. Cassian had ridden with her anyway, laughing as the wind brushed past them. He had stood beside her as Luna, defended her when the pack questioned her decisions.
He had held her while she cried over Ryker’s distance. Over the nights he didn’t come home. Over the drinking and the sudden silence that destroyed their marriage.
Her marriage had been perfect once. Until the last five months before her death shattered everything.
Ryker had changed so suddenly. Sleeping out. Staying late. Smelling like alcohol and unfamiliar perfume, refusing to touch her like she was made of glass, or worse, like he didn’t want her anymore.
And then there was Sierra. The woman he chose.
The betrayal had crushed her so completely she hadn’t even seen the danger coming. She’d gone to Cassian that night, broken and angry and desperate.
And he had killed her. Why? Jealousy. That's what he'd said during that ride to the Blood King.
Lyra sank deeper into the water, the cold wrapping around her thighs, her waist, her ribs. She barely felt it as she lowered herself further, her body moving on instinct, drawn down by the weight of memory.
She closed her eyes as the lake swallowed her.
Time lost meaning as her lungs burned, screaming for air, but she didn’t fight it. The pain and betrayal wrapped around her so tightly that she felt numb.
She remembered his strong hands, the pressure, and the cries for help that he refused to listen to.
It was the height of betrayal, and yet she couldn't truly hate the memory of him. How could she? When he'd been like the family she never had growing up?
Lyra didn't realize she was drowning in the lake once again. She was so caught up in the past that her body refused to move, frozen in terror and disbelief as her life slowly slipped away.
Her chest convulsed, but no air came. She was paralyzed with fear and grief all over again.
She drifted, darkness creeping in at the edges of her vision, soft and tempting, promising her some relief from all the pain she felt.
When she looked up toward the sky, she could see the sun dancing on the surface of the water.
This was peace. This was her relief.
But just before her body sank to the bottom, a face hovered above her and a hand reached into the water.
“Cassian,” she mouthed weakly and smiled.