Chapter 43 43

Chapter 43 43
Minutes later, an ambulance arrived. I watched as Damian was loaded onto a stretcher; he was still babbling about monsters, but the medics were already ignoring him.

What really held my gaze was her. Lyra didn't go inside. She stood on the porch, hugging herself against the night chill, her eyes searching the thick, black line of the forest. She was looking for me.

“Soon, little puppy,” I thought, my wolf letting out a long, mournful whine. “Soon, I won't be a shadow in your garden. I’ll be the man by your side.”

Her eyes searched the shadows, scanning the exact spot where I had vanished into the treeline.

“Did you see that? Damn it, Silas, our mate was looking for us!” my wolf shouted in my head, spinning in frantic circles of joy, his tail wagging with enough force to break ribs. “She loves us! She defended us against the world! Did you see how she kicked that stake? That’s our Queen!”

I stood there, hidden by the ancient oaks, breathing heavily. The metallic, bitter taste of Damian’s blood was still coating my tongue, a grim reminder of the violence I’d unleashed. I watched her until the last patrol car withdrew, the red and blue lights finally fading into the distance.

My chest ached with a suffocating mix of love and guilt. She believed a wild animal—a stray beast of the forest—had saved her life. She had no idea that the "monster" from her past, the man who had shattered her world five years ago, was the same one who now watched over her dreams from the dirt.

Night had finally settled, and a heavy, uneasy calm descended over Lyra’s house. Although I could still hear the distant echo of the officers' voices in my mind, processing the report about Damian, I blocked it out. 

The mere thought of her ever going out with that scumbag made me feel unbearably nauseous. My stomach turned, a toxic cocktail of jealousy and self-loathing bubbling in my gut.

“Are you going to stay here like a stalker all night?” Bill’s voice came from the shadows behind me, pulling me out of my trance.

“I just want to take care of her...” I replied with a low, warning growl, never taking my eyes off her window.

Bill let out a long, weary sigh as he stepped up beside me. “Brother, that girl needs her mate. She needs a man who can hold her, not a stalker hiding in the bushes like a ghost.”

His words hung in the air, cold and true, until I interrupted him with a roar that made the dry leaves beneath our feet crackle and fly. 

“You better go watch that bastard Damian at the clinic, and I'll take care of my female!” I ordered, my Alpha command slamming into him with a weight that brooked no argument.

Bill didn't say another word; he just snorted in resignation, a flash of pity in his eyes, and walked away toward the village where they had taken the coward.

A ragged sigh of relief escaped my lungs. I shifted my weight, my paws silent as I headed straight for the porch. At first, I thought she would have locked herself away in sleep, but then I heard it—the faint, rhythmic sound of a heart breaking, coming from the shadowed corner of the garden.

Damn. There she was.

Lyra was sitting on the weathered wooden bench, her head buried in her hands. Tears were streaming down her face, glistening like diamonds in the pale moonlight. 

Seeing her like that—so small, so fragile, yet so fierce—filled me with an overwhelming wave of guilt. If I hadn't played these games in the shadows... if I had arrived as a man instead of a beast... she wouldn't be crying alone.

I paused a few feet away, my heart heavy. I saw the dark bruise on her cheek where Damian had struck her, and a fresh wave of murderous rage flickered in my chest. I wanted to howl until the mountains crumbled. Instead, I softened my steps. I shifted my form slightly—not a full transformation, but enough to let my scent flare with the warmth of the North, the smell of the hearth and the home she had lost.

She sniffed the air, her sobbing hitching for a second. "Is that... pine?" she whispered to the wind. 

For a moment, she looked hopeful, as if she expected a ghost to step out of the trees. When only the wolf appeared, the hope faded, replaced by a weary, grateful smile.

Without further ado, I walked slowly toward her. I nudged her knees and began to lick her legs, trying to absorb her pain through my closeness, offering the only comfort I could give without breaking the law of the pack.

“Wolf... what are you doing back here? If the police see you, you'll be in trouble,” she said in a barely audible voice, her throat raw from crying.

Damn it, Lyra. I wanted to shift right there. I wanted to take her face in my hands and beg for her forgiveness. 

I wanted to tell her I would never leave her side again, no matter what it cost me. But before I could move, she wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and struggled to stand up from the bench.

“I'll bring you something to eat. You must be hungry after... after all that,” she said, her fingers grazing my ears with a tenderness that burned like a brand.

She turned toward the house, but this time, I wasn't going to wait in the dirt. I followed her. I sneaked into the living room behind her, my claws barely clicking on the worn floorboards. As soon as she turned back from the kitchen, her eyes widened, a rare spark of amusement dancing in the grief.

“Wow. I see you already know your way around,” she said, carrying a bowl of spiced meat that smelled heavenly.

I wagged my tail playfully, a deliberate act to ease her tension, and began to eat. She walked toward the sofa and sank into the cushions. I expected a quiet visit, but the dam finally broke. She began to talk—not to a wolf, but to the silence of the room—about Damian and every disgusting thing that jerk had said to her.

“Let me go back! Let me kill him now!” my wolf growled, his euphoria turning into a murderous itch.

I wanted to hunt Damian down in his hospital bed and finish the job. But then Lyra’s voice came back, laden with an infinite, crushing sadness that grounded me.

“I... I don't know what I saw in that man... he was just making fun of me the whole time. He wanted to use me and throw me away like I was an idiot,” she said, a heavy sigh of disappointment racking her chest. “I was so stupid! All because I felt so lonely... men are such idiots. I wish they were all like you, wolf. If they were more like animals, things would be so much better. They wouldn't lie.”