Chapter 18
Lyra's POV
"Thank you, Sera," I said sincerely. "You've helped me tremendously."
Sera looked at me, concern evident in her eyes that she couldn't quite conceal.
She opened her mouth as if to say something, then swallowed the words back down. After a moment, she suddenly said, "Why don't I go back and ask Bran for the specific address? He should remember where that place is."
"No!" I stopped her almost instinctively, my tone more urgent than I'd intended.
Seeing that I'd startled Sera, I quickly softened my voice. "I mean, there's no need to go out of your way to ask. If you suddenly bring this up, Bran might find it strange, and if he casually mentions it to someone else and word gets back to Kael, that would be trouble."
I took her hand and looked earnestly into her eyes.
"Sera, I know you're trying to help me, but the situation is very complicated right now, and I don't want to alert anyone prematurely. You've already given me very important information, truly. I'll figure out the rest on my own."
Sera hesitated for a moment before finally nodding, but her brow remained furrowed, clearly worried about my situation.
"Lyra, can you really handle all of this? I'm very worried about you."
"I can handle it," I tried to make my voice sound firm and confident. "Trust me, Sera. I'll resolve this matter properly."
Sera stared at me for a long while before finally sighing. "Lyra, don't always pretend to be strong. We're friends—no matter what happens, you can talk to me."
Her words made my nose tingle, and I nearly broke into tears. I forced back the burning sensation in my eyes and nodded vigorously. "I know, Sera. Thank you for always being by my side."
The sky had grown completely dark, and the streetlights outside were lighting up one by one as Chicago's night became noisy and bustling.
I walked Sera to the door, and before parting, I reminded her once more, "Remember, don't tell anyone about what we discussed tonight, especially not Bran. The fewer people who know about this, the better."
"I understand," Sera said, giving me a tight hug. "You be careful too, and call me anytime you need anything."
I watched her figure disappear at the end of the hallway, then closed the door and carefully recorded the clues Sera had provided in my phone's notes app.
The next morning, I was making coffee in the kitchen when my phone suddenly vibrated.
I picked it up and saw it was a message from Orion.
Opening it, I found several photos of rings displayed on the screen, each one exquisitely designed in different styles. There were simple platinum bands, elaborate designs set with diamonds, and vintage pieces carved with intricate patterns.
"Which one do you like?" Orion's message followed shortly after.
I enlarged the photos to examine them carefully, finding them increasingly stunning the more I looked.
The designs of these rings were all extraordinarily exquisite, with every detail meticulously crafted—definitely not pieces that could have been completed in a short time.
Especially the ring set with a sapphire—the deep cornflower blue gleamed with a velvet-like luster under the light, and both the stone's cutting angles and the setting method were perfect, clearly the work of an experienced jewelry designer who had spent considerable time perfecting it.
I couldn't help but voice the question in my mind: "These rings... they don't look like they were recently designed?"
My phone vibrated quickly, and Orion replied: "I started preparing these five years ago, when I learned we would be engaged."
I stared blankly at the text on the screen, my heart feeling as though something had seized it tightly.
Five years ago, when I had recklessly fled from the engagement to pursue so-called freedom and love, Orion had already been preparing these for me. He hadn't been angry about my escape but had quietly waited, just as he had always been there, waiting for me to turn back.
"Orion..." My fingers trembled slightly as I typed. "Thank you."
"No need to thank me," he replied quickly. "Being able to do these things for you is my honor."
I looked at those photos of the rings, each one so beautiful it moved my heart, and for a moment I couldn't decide which one to choose.
After hesitating for a long time, I sent Orion a message: "They're all so beautiful, I'm having trouble choosing..."
Before long, Orion's reply came: "Then we'll take them all. There will be plenty of opportunities to wear them in the future anyway."
His words carried a natural indulgence, as if buying me all the rings was the most natural thing in the world. I couldn't help but laugh—it was the first time in days that I'd genuinely smiled.
"I've already arranged to have the rings sent to Magnolia. Go try them on in three days and see if they fit."
"Okay," I replied, a warm current rising in my heart. "I'll definitely be there."
I thought the conversation would end there and was about to close the screen when Orion's message popped up again.
"Don't worry too much. I'm already investigating the Blood Moon Cult. Also, there's someone you need to meet."
This was followed by a photo. The woman in the picture appeared to be in her early forties, with short black hair and eyes as clean and sharp as knife blades. A faint old scar extended from her left eye corner to her cheekbone.
She wore oil-stained work clothes, gripped a wrench in her hand, and leaned against a half-modified motorcycle. Her aura was unquestionable.
I stared at that face for a while, suddenly feeling it looked familiar.
Three years ago, at the underground racing track, the Anvil Garage. That taciturn but technically brilliant mechanic—I'd only dealt with her once, when she'd spent twenty minutes calibrating my cylinder bore for me.
Ren Voss.
Orion's message came through: "Ren from Anvil Garage. On the surface she's a mechanic, but actually she's my intelligence node in Chicago. She used to be with the Joint Enforcement Squad, codename Bone Collector—specialized in hunting down rogue Alphas. If there's anything you feel inconvenient for me to handle directly, you can go to her."
"I've met her," I typed, almost wanting to laugh. "Three years ago when I was racing, she calibrated my cylinder bore."
"That makes it even easier." Orion's reply was concise and clear. "Go to her, and Kael won't suspect anything. If you run into any trouble, go straight to Anvil Garage."
He paused, then the final message lit up.
"Lyra, remember, you're not alone."
I stared at those words for a long time, feeling something that had been tightly wound inside me suddenly loosen a little.
I understood—Orion was afraid I'd suffer grievances alone in Chicago, which was why he'd introduced me to Ren. After all, with Ren's capabilities, even Kael would have to be wary.
With Orion supporting me from behind and Ren Voss to turn to for help, I was no longer that isolated lone wolf.
The next afternoon, Kael came home unusually early. Normally at this hour he'd still be at the company handling business, or out on a date with Mira, but today he pushed open the apartment door a little after three.
He took off his coat and hung it on the rack by the door, his tone carrying a trace of fatigue. "I'm going to take a shower."
I sat on the sofa, ostensibly watching television, but my thoughts had long since drifted elsewhere.
Hearing the sound of water from the bathroom, I knew the opportunity had come. I quietly stood up and walked to Kael's phone lying on the coffee table.
I picked it up, entered the unlock code, and quickly opened the contacts.
My finger scrolled rapidly through the screen, trying to find any suspicious contacts.
But I was disappointed to discover that all the names in the contacts were people I knew—pack members, business partners, family. There were no unfamiliar or suspicious contacts.
I opened the call history next, and again found nothing—the records had been wiped clean, as if the phone call I'd seen in the surveillance footage had never happened at all.
Unwilling to give up, I searched through messages, emails, even the notes app, but all the records were as normal as could be.
Kael was clearly very cautious—he'd cleaned up every trace that could expose his secrets.
The water in the bathroom stopped. I hastily put the phone back where it had been and quickly returned to the sofa, pretending everything was normal.
Kael emerged from the bathroom wrapped in a bathrobe, his hair still dripping water.
He walked over and sat on the bed, his gaze falling on me, his eyes carrying obvious desire. He reached out his hand, wanting to caress my arm.
I instinctively stepped back, my mind racing. "Sorry," I said in a low voice. "I... I'm on my period."
Kael's hand froze in midair, and a flash of clear displeasure crossed his face. He withdrew his hand, his eyes becoming cold. "Is that so," he said, his tone somewhat sarcastic. "How inconvenient."
He stood up, put his coat back on, and prepared to leave without even drying his hair. "I still have some matters to handle," he said coldly. "You rest well."