Chapter 49 Something in the air
She turned back toward Darius with a smile that felt sharpened at the edges.
It was a smile meant to claim space.
Darius stiffened beside me, every muscle in his body going taut in a way I’d come to recognize. Not a threat, something older. Something personal.
“What are you doing here?” he asked, his voice clipped, controlled, but cold.
The woman lifted a perfectly groomed brow. “That’s no way to speak to your mother.”
The word hit the air like a dropped glass.
Mother.
I froze.
Darius didn’t hesitate. “You are not my mother.”
The woman’s smile didn’t falter. If anything, it widened slightly, as though she’d expected that answer. “I was mated to your father soI'd say otherwise,” she replied smoothly. “But then again, you’ve always preferred denial over truth.”
My stomach twisted.
She turned her attention to me, eyes bright, assessing, calculating. “My son Faruk told me what a wonderful time you all had at the vacation home. He said it was… memorable.” Her gaze flicked pointedly between me and Darius and me. “Last time, I didn’t get the chance to formally meet you.”
She extended her hand toward me.
“Lyra Soren.”
Hearing my full name from her mouth made my skin crawl.
“I’m Faruk’s mother,” she said. “And Darius’s stepmother.”
My heart slammed violently against my ribs.
Darius’s hand brushed mine, tentative, grounding. “Lyra,” he said quietly. “Are you okay?”
I looked down at his hand.
At the hand of the man who had killed my father.
Something inside me snapped.
I slapped his hand away so hard the sound echoed.
Gasps rippled faintly from somewhere behind us, but I didn’t look. I couldn’t. My chest burned, tears already spilling as the weight of everything crashed down on me at once, my father, the council, the bond, and him. My father was not a madman. And I was created out of love, he always told me I was a miracle and that I’m a product of a love that should have never existed, and my father paid for it in the worst way imaginable.
I turned and ran.
I didn’t know where I was going, only that I needed to get away. Away from the music, the fire, the pack, from Caleste’s knowing eyes and Darius’s presence that felt like a chain around my throat.
“Lyra!” Darius called.
I ignored him.
I pushed through the trees bordering the grounds, branches scraping my arms as I stumbled into the darkness beyond the celebration. The night air was cold and sharp, slicing through the thin fabric of my clothes. My lungs burned as I ran, tears blurring my vision.
How could I forget?
How could I let myself laugh, let myself feel safe, let myself almost belong?
My father was dead.
And the man chasing after me was the one who killed him.
Footsteps thundered behind me, faster, closer. Then a hand caught my arm, not roughly, but firm enough to stop me.
“Lyra, stop,” Darius said urgently.
I whirled on him, fury exploding out of me.
“Leave me alone!” I screamed, shoving his chest with both hands. He barely moved.
“You don’t get to touch me,” I hissed.
“Lyra—”
I hit him.
Not once. Twice. My fists struck his chest, his shoulders, anywhere I could reach. He didn’t block me. Didn’t restrain me. He just stood there, jaw clenched, eyes dark with pain and restraint.
“You murdered him!” I shouted, my voice breaking. “You killed my father and you expect me to what, smile? Play Luna? Let your people cheer while I rot inside?”
“I didn’t—”
“Reject me!” I screamed, shoving him again. “Reject me so I can be free! I don’t want this bond, I don’t want you, I don’t want any of this!”
My hands shook violently as I pounded his chest again, tears soaking my face. “As long as I live, I will never belong to the man who killed my father!”
Silence fell between us, thick and heavy.
Darius’s eyes searched my face, something raw breaking through his Alpha composure. When he spoke, his voice was low, steady, but it hurt.
“I can tell how much you loved him.”
That did it.
I choked on a sob, staggering back as if he’d struck me. “Don’t,” I whispered. “Don’t talk about him like you understand.”
“I do,” he said quietly. “More than you think. I once heard you talk in your sleep, you were reliving your childhood ”
I shook my head violently. “No. You don’t get to understand. You took him from me.”
He stepped closer, carefully, like approaching a wounded animal. “Lyra—”
“Wait,” I said suddenly.
The word slipped out before I fully understood why.
I turned my head slightly.
Something was wrong.
The night air shifted, carrying with it a scent that made my stomach lurch. It was faint at first, barely there, but unmistakable.
Rot.
Metal.
Something old and wrong.
My heartbeat stuttered.
“Do you smell that?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
Darius frowned. “Smell what?”
My beast stirred uneasily inside me, a low growl vibrating in my chest. The fine hairs along my arms rose, goosebumps rippling across my skin.
“I’ve smelled it before,” I whispered. “That night. In the alley. When Fred and I were attacked.”
Darius went still.
Then he inhaled deeply.
His posture changed instantly predatory, alert. His eyes flared, glowing faintly in the darkness.
“Stay behind me,” he ordered.
A sound cut through the night.
A screech.
High-pitched. Distorted. Inhuman.
My blood ran cold.
It was the same sound. Exactly the same.
“They’re here,” I breathed.