Chapter 12
Lyra's POV
The next day, I changed into the deep blue suit I'd bought from the boutique, pulled my hair back into an elegant low ponytail, and checked my makeup in the mirror repeatedly.
Then I carefully placed the gift box containing the watch into my handbag.
Taking a deep breath, I grabbed my bag and headed out, hailing a cab to the address my father had sent me.
Saint Michael's Keep—a private club in the very heart of Chicago's financial district, its entrance lined with luxury cars, the entire building exuding an air of understated opulence.
I stood at the entrance, staring at this structure that blended classical and modern architecture, awed by its grandeur—crystal chandeliers cast warm light through floor-to-ceiling windows, marble floors gleamed like mirrors, and the air carried a faint scent of sandalwood.
Suddenly I remembered that unexpected encounter outside the café a few days ago, when I'd been wearing my riding gear, hair windswept and messy, face still glistening with post-race sweat.
Would such a casual first impression make Orion think I was some uncouth wild girl who knew nothing of propriety? I bit my lip, fingers unconsciously twisting the strap of my handbag, hesitating about whether to go inside.
While I stood there wavering, a server approached and bowed respectfully. "Miss Lyra, Mr. Orion is waiting for you in the Skyline Suite on the top floor. Please follow me."
I froze for a moment, surprised that the staff here recognized me, especially since I'd never been to this club before.
It seemed Orion had arranged everything in advance.
My nervousness deepened as I followed the server into a private elevator that ascended smoothly.
The elevator doors opened on the top floor, revealing a corridor that ended at a heavy wooden door carved with intricate totems.
The server led me to the doorway, then stepped aside respectfully, indicating I could enter.
I stood before the door, and even before pushing it open, I felt a powerful alpha aura emanating from within—an almost tangible sense of pressure that made me want to hold my breath.
Selah stirred restlessly inside me, growling excitedly in the depths of my consciousness.
My hand paused on the door handle, hesitating for a second.
Last time outside the café, I'd only made brief eye contact with Orion through the glass before fleeing, lacking the courage to face this man I'd heard about since childhood but never truly encountered.
And now, I was about to meet him face-to-face, to discuss our wedding as his future mate, my heart pounding so hard it felt ready to burst from my chest.
I took a deep breath and gently pushed open the door.
The moment the door opened, that oppressive alpha aura suddenly vanished, replaced by a warm and welcoming atmosphere.
I raised my head and truly saw Orion's appearance for the first time.
He stood before the floor-to-ceiling windows, his back to Chicago's glittering skyline, his profile sharply defined in the glow of the setting sun.
Hearing the door open, he turned around, those deep eyes looking at me calmly, without any scrutiny or criticism—only a reassuring steadiness.
During that brief glimpse last time, I hadn't really looked at his features.
Now, observing him up close, I discovered Orion was even more handsome than I'd imagined—not with the sharp edges of youthful vigor, but with a mature charm refined by years.
His features were deep-set and sculptural, with high brow bones, a straight nose, and thin lips that, when pressed together, carried an innate sense of nobility.
Time seemed to have favored him particularly, leaving almost no trace on his face, instead adding a layer of composed temperament that made people want to draw near yet hesitate to overstep.
I stood there frozen, staring at his face for several seconds, completely forgetting what I should say. It wasn't until the corner of Orion's mouth lifted in an almost imperceptible curve that he said softly, "Don't be afraid. I'm not going to eat you."
His voice was low and gentle, carrying a hint of barely-there amusement that instantly broke the tension in the air.
Only then did I realize he'd witnessed my awkwardness, and my cheeks flushed hot, the heat spreading from my neck all the way to my ears.
I hurriedly looked away and quickly walked to the seat beside him, sitting down while trying to appear composed.
Orion sat down across from me, his movements elegant and unhurried, as if completely unaware of my nervousness.
The silence stretched for a few seconds. Just as I was racking my brain for an appropriate conversation starter, his voice broke the quiet.
"That night, outside Monarch's," his voice was calm, but I could detect some emotion within it, "I saw you racing motorcycles..."
My heart sank.
Of course he was going to bring this up, of course he thought such behavior was beneath my station, would embarrass him.
I almost instinctively interrupted him, my gaze darting away, unable to meet his eyes, my voice carrying obvious apology. "I'm sorry, I know that wasn't appropriate, especially as your future... I shouldn't have participated in that kind of race. People seeing me would cause you trouble. I promise, I'll never ride again, I'll—"
"Lyra." He suddenly interrupted me, his voice still calm but carrying an undeniable authority.
I could feel his gaze resting on me.
I didn't know whether to look up at him, afraid of seeing disappointment or disdain in his eyes.
Kael had told me countless times that riding motorcycles was undignified behavior, something that would embarrass an alpha, and I subconsciously assumed all alphas would think the same.
"When you ride motorcycles," Orion's voice sounded again, this time even more gentle, "you're full of vitality."
I jerked my head up, looking at him in disbelief. His expression was serious and focused, his eyes showing none of the disdain or disapproval I'd imagined, but rather an appreciation I'd never anticipated.
"That was one of the most beautiful sights I've ever seen," he continued, his lips curving into a genuine smile. "You on that motorcycle—free, passionate, full of life. That's the real you, isn't it?"
I was stunned, completely at a loss for how to respond. All these years, I'd been told to temper my edges, to become gentle, soft, to fit the mold of what a luna should be.
Kael had once said that women who rode motorcycles looked crude, not elegant enough.
And now, this man to whom I was about to entrust my life was telling me, in an almost tender tone, that he liked watching me ride motorcycles.
"I..." I opened my mouth, finding my voice slightly choked. "I thought you'd find it inappropriate."
"Why would it be inappropriate?" Orion's brow furrowed slightly, as if he didn't understand the logic in my words. "Showing your true self—what's inappropriate about that? Lyra, I'm marrying you, not some perfect puppet molded according to others' expectations."
His words were like a beam of light, illuminating corners of my heart that had been suppressed for too long.
I suddenly realized that over the past three years, I'd been trying so hard to become the person Kael wanted, never once asking myself who I truly wanted to be.
I felt my eyes growing hot and quickly lowered my head, pretending to smooth my skirt to hide my loss of composure.
After a long moment, I finally raised my head again, using a voice that had regained its calm to say, "Thank you, Orion. That means... a great deal to me."
He only smiled faintly, as if what he'd just said was merely an ordinary thing, rather than words that had nearly brought me to tears.